Harry's Homecoming
by Nifty Niffler
Summary: After that fateful night on Halloween, Harry disappears from the wizarding world until he's found at the age of 14 nearly 15 . He's in for quite a shock and so is the wizarding world. In this fic, Harry and Ginny are the same age.
1. Prologue

Harry's Homecoming: Prologue

The toddler was afraid. He didn't know why he felt that way but he knew his Mum was afraid and that made him scared, too. His Mum quickly carried him up the stairs of their home, talking softly to him all the while. She held him a little too tightly for comfort and he started to cry. Mum shushed him and bounced him as she entered his nursery. A loud bang from downstairs startled him and he cried harder. Mum put him in his crib and gave him his favorite toy. Tears ran down her face and she quickly swiped them away in order to smile. Reaching down she ran her fingers through his unruly black hair, so much like his father's. Lightly, they traced his face, around his bright green eyes, down his nose, over his mouth. Leaning over she gave her son a lingering kiss on his cheek. Tears fell once again.

"Mummy and Daddy love you, very much. We're so sorry we failed you. We did everything we could to protect you."

The nursery door slammed open and a very imposing figure walked unhurriedly into the room. This man was scary. He didn't look like his Daddy at all. This man was very pale, had red glowing eyes, and no real nose, just a couple slits. There wasn't any hair on his head. His fingers were long and bony with sharp nails. His voice, when he spoke, was deceptively quiet.

"Move out of the way."

Mum turned to face the intruder, chin in the air. She held her arms out at her sides in effort to ward him away from the boy.

"Please not my baby!" she begged.

"Step aside. You need not die."

"No, please. Please, no, don't do this."

"Step. Aside. Now." The calm voice began to get angry.

"No. I won't."

"Very well. AVADA KEDAVRA!" the monster yelled, pointing a white stick.

A sickly green light headed for the woman. Just before it reached her, she took a final look at her son.

"Harry! Mummy loves you!"

"Mummy! Love!" the boy cried.

The light hit her and she fell, dead. The boy watched his Mummy fall and couldn't understand what had happened but knew it was something bad. He looked up at the monster, who was now pointing that stick at him. The monster smiled a hideous smile and uttered the same unfamiliar words he'd just used.

"Mummy? Love Mummy," the boy repeated, tearfully.

"Love," the monster scoffed. "Love won't save you. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The toddler watched as another beam of green light came speeding towards him. Just as that beam touched him a deafening sonic boom sounded, magnified by the close confines of the room. At the same instant, a blinding white light appeared and surrounded the terrified child. On the heels of the white light, an explosion rocked the house, blowing out one wall, collapsing a part of the roof. The little boy looked around for the monster but it seemed to have vanished. Only the white stick remained of the terrible presence. As he watched, a rat came along, picked up the stick and carried it off to whereabouts unknown.

Suddenly, more of the roof collapsed, right on top of the crib. The white glowing light reappeared and protected the child from harm. The combined weight of roof, crib, and child was too much for the floor and it gave way, sending the crib crashing to the floor below.

++++

People poured from their houses at the loud sound, looking around in confusion.

"Look!" cried one man, pointing at the decimated house, "Over there!"

Men rushed to the house, carefully entering the rubble to hunt for survivors. They found the man just inside the doorway. A little further inside, they found the woman. Both were dead. One man found the baby, still sitting in his crib, unhurt, except for a peculiarly shaped scar on his forehead. The man thought it odd that the boy uttered no sound. Throwing off the bit of roofing, the man picked up the young child and carried him out of the house.

None of the residents of Godric's Hollow were truly aware of what had transpired. No one had known the Potters beyond their names. They had no idea the little boy they had rescued was a wizard or that the scar he bore was the mark of deflected Killing Curse. Neither were they aware that little Harry had somehow vanquished a man so evil, the likes of which had never been known before.

By the time rescue services arrived, it was noticed by more than one person that the child still had not made a sound. A policeman took witness statements about the event and then walked over to the man holding the child.

"So, this is the little tyke who survived, huh?"

"This is him. There isn't any other family. What will happen to the boy?"

"If we can't find any family, he'll likely go to an orphanage."

The man with the boy grunted. "That's too bad."

The police officer tried to get the little one's attention by snapping his fingers near one of the boy's ears. Nothing. The officer pulled out a pen and clicked it on and off next to the boy's ear. Still nothing. Perplexed, he took out a set of keys and rattled _them_ in the boy's ear. No response.

"That's odd," he said, scratching his chin, biting his lower lip.

"We noticed that, too. He's been quiet ever since he'd been pulled from the house. We don't think he can hear anymore. There was a loud boom. Maybe that hurt his ears. He used to be able to because I remember his parents always talking to him on the rare occasions they were out and about."

"Hmm. It's possible. We'll be sure and check him out, don't worry."

Finally, getting the child's attention, the officer took the boy from the man and walked over to a medical first responder, had a brief conversation with her, and left the baby. The woman examined the child from head to foot, paying special attention to his oddly shaped scar and his ears. When she was through, she made a note on a chart and took him to the local hospital for further evaluation.

Upon reaching the hospital, the toddler was checked by several doctors and they came to the same conclusion. A dangerously loud sound caused irreparable damage to the child's eardrums and inner ear nerve endings. Harry Potter would never hear again.

++++

Somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, a silver trinket began spinning on one of its many points. It went unnoticed for quite some time. A stern-looking witch and a aged wizard sat in an office at the top of a tower overlooking a school of magic. The two were having tea when the movement caught the witch's attention.

"Albus, why is that thing spinning?" she asked, pointing.

Albus Dumbledore turned and saw the instrument in question. Jumping up, he hurried over to the desk upon which it sat. After some careful, yet quick, study he hurried to the fireplace, grabbed some glittery powder and threw it into the flames. Kneeling, he stuck his head into the fire and began to speak. After repeating this action, he finally turned back to his companion.

"Minerva, that was the Potters' alarm. Something has happened. Contact Filius. We need him to look after the school until we return."

Noting the urgency in the Headmaster's voice, Minerva McGonagall didn't ask questions. Using Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, she sent a message to the Head of Ravenclaw House. Upon receiving a reply, she transfigured her emerald robes into a Muggle-style dress, following Dumbledore's example of transfiguring his own robes into a business suit.

"Albus, do you think it was You-Know-Who? How could they have been found?"

"I don't know but we need to get there quickly. Godric's Hollow is a Muggle town and someone might have seen something they weren't meant to."

The two headed out of the office and down the spiral staircase. Walking as swiftly as possible so as not to arouse suspicion, they made their way out the main doors.

"But I thought Godric's Hollow was a wizarding village," McGonagall continued their conversation.

"It used to be but for whatever reason magical folk left and Muggles moved in. James and Lily thought it the perfect hiding place."

Outside the main gates, Dumbledore paused long enough to take the other's arm. He had to Side-Along Apparate them since she had not been to the village. They disappeared with a quiet _pop_. They reappeared in a graveyard next to a little white church. As they walked into the square, they heard snippets of conversation.

"...those poor people to die that way..."

"...poor little kid...no family now..."

On the one hand confirming what he'd feared, but on the other relieved to hear Harry had survived, Albus continued to steadily walk toward the Potters' residence. A block away, they were barred from going further. Finding the person who seemed to be in charge, Albus stepped up to speak with her.

"What's happened?"

"Who are you?" she asked, suspiciously, eyeing the pair of strangers.

"We're friends of a family who lived on this block, James and Lily Potter."

The policewoman's face immediately changed into one of remorse. Motioning for the odd couple to follow her, she led them a short distance out of the hearing range of others.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this but your friends didn't survive the explosion. You see, a gas pipe exploded under their house, killing both adults. Their son survived. He was taken to a local hospital. That's all I can tell you right now."

"May we see the place?" Albus asked, staring deep into the woman's eyes.

"Of course," she replied as if she was in some sort of daze.

The aged pair bustled up the street to the remains of what used to be the Potters' safe haven. Seeing the destruction, Minerva gave a stifled cry and fought to hold back tears. Her companion also was shocked at the savagely demolished home. Reaching out with his magic he sensed a dark signature. One he'd recognize anywhere. He also sensed an overwhelming power of love and the banishment of the Dark Lord. How it happened or why, could wait. Harry needed to be found.

"He was here," he said, almost to himself. "Voldemort did this. Somehow Voldemort was reduced to nothing."

"What?" McGonagall, eyes wide. "He's gone? How?"

"Gone? No, I don't think so. Not permanently, anyway. As for how, I'm not sure though I have a theory. We need to find young Harry. He's the key."

++++

No family had been found to take young Harry so he was sent to a tiny orphanage. This orphanage was overcrowded and understaffed. One room overflowed with beds and cribs. In another room, long tables to feed the kids were situated close together. Another room had faded, and some broken, toys. There was a family room where potential parents met the kids. A run-down couch and chair were the only furniture in the room. The walls were stark white with framed photos of the same long-haired man with hair on his face. Usually, a bright light encircled the man's head. Other than photos, the only thing that hung on the walls were some sort of wide sticks stuck together. One stick lay against the wall up and down. A shorter one lay across the other near the top and was stuck to the longer one in some fashion. Some were plain but others had a man attached to them, arms outstretched along the short part. If one were to look closely, they'd see it appeared to be the same man as in the photos.

It was run by some very strict ladies who were passionate about their religion. They agreed to take in the little black-haired boy and within a day they noticed something strange about him. The first couple times it happened could have been explained away by wind but the third time made the ladies suspicious. Little Harry was sitting on a rug, alone, playing with some blocks, when he saw a bright shiny ball a few feet away that he thought would be neat to play with. Raising his hand, the ball suddenly rolled to him. His happiness was short-lived, however, when one of the caregivers took away the ball and smacked his hand. She shook her finger in his face, a look of horror on her face and spoke, though he couldn't hear the words. Saddened, he watched the lady take away all his toys. _Miss Mummy and Daddy._

Another instance occurred regarding the black-haired, green-eyed boy. This time he'd been entertaining himself by levitating stuffed animals to different heights. One of the ladies saw this, picked him up quite forcefully and smacked both hands. She took him into a small room, sat him on a wooden chair and waited. Several other ladies entered, two of which were holding something.

They folded their hands together, closed their eyes, lips moving in silence. Afterwards, a round cold disc with a person on the front was pinned to his shirt. The Head lady had a worn book in her hand in which she opened and her lips moved again. A piece of cloth was placed around his shoulders. Out of no where, someone shoved one of those stick things from the walls, into his face. This particular one had the man on it. He felt them touch his head, saw their lips move, then something cold was poured over his head. The ladies then left him in that small, dark room, alone. _Mummy. Love Mummy. Love Daddy. Want Mummy. Want Daddy._ Silently, the little child cried.

++++

Albus and Minerva had found no trace of Harry at the hospital, not to mention when or where he'd gone. It was as if he no longer existed.

"How can this be? There _must_ be some way to track him. What of the Trace?"

"Broken during the event that took his parents. For now, Harry is lost to us. Do not worry, I will not give up the search, no matter how long it may take."

Albus was unprepared for how long it actually would take.

++++

The next day, a man and woman came to look at all the kids. They were dressed in faded, somewhat shabby clothes. Smiles crossed their faces when they saw the timid boy with messy black hair and eyes like emeralds. After signing some papers, they took the little boy and left the building far behind. Unfortunately, little Harry's life just took a downward turn. The little boy, known as Harry Potter, vanished without a trace.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Eyeing the baskets of fruit in front of the shop, a scrawny teen picked up few pieces and smelled them as he'd watched others do. He hated what he was about to do but he had to if he wanted to eat. Other patrons gave him nasty looks but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He didn't have money to pay for clothes so he wore whatever he could find, whether it be tossed away or just left hanging out on a line. At the moment, he was quite dirty and smelled of sweat. He couldn't help that, either. He lived outside, wherever he could find shelter. He was going to be dirty.

Feeling his stomach rumble, he looked around. When no one was looking, he palmed an apple into his pocket. Another went into his pocket before he felt the pounding footsteps of the shopkeeper. Grabbing a few oranges, he ran. A few swift changes of direction and he found himself in an alley. Giving in to his hunger, he found a stoop upon which to sit. Lying the oranges on the ground, he took out the deep red apples, all the while watching for anyone coming after him.

Devouring the apples in a short amount of time, he then turned to the oranges. Using his teeth to create marks in the peel, he began tearing the outside layer away. Juice ran between his fingers as he pulled the flesh apart, making his mouth water. He made quick work of the first one and started on a second, eating it just as quickly. Tempted though he was to eat the third orange, he decided to keep it in his pocket, for later.

From another shop, he managed to nick a bottle of water, using his hated abilities to conceal the water. He loathed using those abilities. They're what made him unlovable, them and not being able to hear. Promising himself he wouldn't use them again for awhile, he downed half the water and walked along the street, looking into the myriad shop windows and daydreamed.

He watched as families shopped together, laughed together, fussed at each other. Their touches were gentle, loving. The kind Harry had never known. He found himself wishing for a family like that but knew wishes never came true. It's why he'd run from his last one. He couldn't take the beatings any longer, so he ran and never looked back. That was a year ago. He survived by nicking food and clothing, glasses, too, when he needed them but Harry felt he was infinitely better off.

Stomach still rumbling, he came upon a bakery. Someone stood by the door handing out samples to anyone walking by. Harry, looking as he did, didn't even dare hope the person would give any to him so he never lifted his head. A hand on his arm made Harry flinch away. A grandfatherly man belonged to the hand and in his other hand he held a piece of bread. Harry's gaze darted between the bread and the man, trying to discern a trap. Not finding one, his hand snatched the bread away quicker than a blink of an eye and he downed it nearly whole.

About to move on, the man surprised Harry by offering another piece. Confused as to why he would do so, Harry stared at him. Then he looked around as if expecting to be attacked any second. Again, Harry snatched the bread and ate it. When a third piece appeared, Harry felt even more confused. He narrowed his eyes and studied the man. _Why is he giving me food? What is he getting out of it? Is he just stalling me so one of those people can take me away for taking the food?_ The man offered the piece again and Harry took it, eating it a tad slower. He watched as the man leaned into the store and spoke with someone. That someone turned out to be a woman about the same age as the man. She took one look at Harry and dropped the pottery bowl she was carrying, a look of utter shock on her face. Fearing the worst, he did the only thing he knew, he ran and didn't look back.

"Paul, could it be, do you think?" the lady of the bakery, Tammy, asked, astonishment in her voice.

"He's the spitting image of that Mr. Potter, except for those green eyes. If I remember right, the Missus had eyes that color. It has to be the boy," the man, Paul, answered.

"Do you remember the two strangers who came looking for the Potters? What were their names? McGongall and Dumble...Dumbledrawer?"

"McGonagall and Dumbledore. Yeah, I remember them. They seemed interested in the boy. The man passed out cards with his name, address and phone number. Do we still have it?"

"Are you thinking of contacting him? What do we really know about them?" worried Tammy.

"You didn't see the boy but for a second. The clothes he wore hung from him and were practically rags, like he'd worn the same things for weeks. He looked like he hadn't seen a proper bath in a long time. The kid was nearly skin and bones, Tam. He was starving. Most of all, he had that hard look in his eyes that people get when they've seen Hell. We have to call that man."

"I suppose you're right. Let me see if I can find that card."

An hour of searching finally turned up the card in an envelope they'd set aside for important documents. Paul took the card and the phone into his office for some privacy. Praying he was doing the right thing, he dialed the number with shaking fingers. It rang three times before it was answered.

Albus was in his office, contemplating the newly ended school year. At first he didn't know what was making the sound. It had been so long ago that he'd set the charm, he'd practically forgotten about it. Realizing what it meant, he tapped it with his wand.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"Is this Mr. Al Dumbledore?" a hesitant voice asked on the other end.

"It is."

"Mr. Dumbledore, 13 years ago you came to a little town called Godric's Hollow looking for a certain family. Do you remember that?"

"I was looking for the Potters but they'd been killed. Their son survived but hasn't been seen. I could never track him down."

"Well," the man hesitated before plunging into his story. "I'm pretty sure I just saw him." Silence. "Hello? You still there?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. You took me by surprise. Did you say you'd just seen him?"

"I'm pretty sure it was him. He had black hair like Mr. Potter's hair and bright green eyes like Mrs. Potter. He had on a pair of glasses. It was like looking at Mr. Potter again."

"Where are you? Still in Godric's Hollow?"

"Oh no, we live in Exeter now. It's on the southern coast, along the Otter River."

"Yes, I'm familiar with the area. I have some friends who live in nearby Ottery St. Catchpole."

"Oh, well, then you know exactly where we are. This boy, he was heading in that general direction, last I saw him. He got spooked and took off."

"You make it sound as if he's alone."

"Oh, I'm quite sure he was."

Alarm bells began to clang inside Dumbledore's head. "What makes you so certain?"

"The boy's appearance. He wore rags for clothes, he was dirty and he was half-starved."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"No. Not a word. He kept looking around as if expecting to be attacked. He was real jumpy yet didn't react in a way you'd think a nervous person would when I shouted for my wife or when she dropped a bowl she was carrying. Come to think of it, he didn't react at all when I called out. It was almost like he didn't hear me. When my wife saw him, she dropped a bowl and he got spooked, took off running."

"May I come visit in an hour?"

"Um, sure, if you can be here that quickly. My wife and I run a bakery on Cheshire Road. Look for Nead's Kneads. I'm Paul Nead. My wife is Tammy Nead."

"Thank you, Mr. Nead. I'll be there in an hour."

Dumbledore tapped the spiky ball again. Motionless, he thought over the conversation he'd just had. _Could it be? Could Harry have finally been found? What did Mr. Nead mean by jumpy? Well, there's only one way to find out._

The Headmaster made a couple Floo calls before transfiguring his clothing. One of those calls went to the family who lived near Ottery St. Catchpole. The other call went to Minerva McGonagall. Even though school had just let out for the summer, the staff still remained to finalize test scores. Moments later, the Transfiguration professor was knocking on the Headmaster's office door.

"Is it true? Has Harry been found?"

"It sounds like him. He was described as looking exactly like James but with Lily's eyes. The rest of what I heard disturbs me greatly."

Albus went on to explain the remainder of the story. "I called Molly Weasley and asked her to be on the lookout in case he goes that way. I'm meeting with the man and wife in an hour."

Forty-five minutes later, Dumbledore couldn't wait any longer. He took out a stash of Muggle money and slipped it into his pocket. Turning to McGonagall he spoke.

"Why don't you go to Molly's and wander the area. I don't think he'll have made it that far but you never know. Send me a message if you find him. It may take the both of us to convince him we're friendly."

"Of course."

She stepped into the green flames and was gone. Dumbledore left his office intending to Apparate to Exeter. He appeared on the outskirts of town, walked a few blocks and hailed a cab to the bakery. After spending some time with the Neads, he thanked them for notifying him and headed in the direction of Ottery St. Catchpole.

Harry had just finished a dunk in the river to cool off when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Looking around, he saw an old man in a suit standing not too far away. The man had long white hair and a long white beard. Half-moon glasses were perched upon the end of his nose. When the man came a little closer, Harry jumped up and prepared to run, only to find an invisible hand seemed to have a hold on him.

"It's okay, Harry. I'm not going to hurt you," Albus said in his best soothing voice. "I'm glad I finally found you. I've never stopped looking for you since that night."

Seeing the teen's rising panic, Albus tested a theory. Levitating a stick behind the boy, he brought it closer to Harry's ear, keeping it well out of sight, and snapped it. Nothing. Next, he tried a thicker branch and snapped it, making a very loud crack, behind the boy's ear. No reaction at all. Conjuring a piece of parchment and inked quill, causing the boy's eyes to widen, Dumbledore wrote something. Stepping closer, he held it up for Harry to read. Met only with confusion, Dumbledore sighed. _It's just as I feared. He can't hear. He can't even read. What happened to this poor boy? Merlin, this is going to be difficult._

McGonagall _popped_ into existence a short distance from them in time to experience a massive magical wave, making her stumble. A blur of a young teen zoomed by but her attention was more on Dumbledore.

"Are you okay, Albus?"

"I'm fine, Minerva," he said, picking himself up from the ground and brushing himself off. "Harry broke my Petrificus Totalus. He completely panicked and managed to break it."

"That was Harry?" Minerva turned back and could see the rapidly retreating form. "But why did he run? Surely you told him about our world and his place in it."

Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid it's not going to be so easy."

"Why ever not?"

"The boy can't hear, Minerva. He can't even read."

"What?" she gasped. "Can't hear? Can't read? How does he communicate? How does he get by?"

"From the look of him, he doesn't do the one and barely is accomplishing the other."

Albus pulled a map out of a pocket and tapped it with his wand. A flashing dot appeared marking the route Harry was taking.

"If we Apparate along this route, we should be able to shepherd him straight towards Molly's."

"Are you sure that's wise? We could be doing more damage than necessary."

"If he's found by a Death Eater, Harry won't stand a chance. He needs to come back to our world and learn how to defend himself. From the looks of him, he's had it hard. Who better than Molly to show him the world isn't all bad?"

"How do you propose to get our point across to him if he can't read?"

"I can place the knowledge straight into his mind. He'll need to be bound and it'll likely spook him again but it's the only way. We'll then be able to tell him what we need to."

Not seeing another way, the Transfiguration professor agreed.

Harry ran until his legs were too weak to run anymore. He didn't see the strange man anywhere. Sitting on a boulder, he closed his eyes. The man had used a stick and suddenly he, Harry, couldn't move. Another wave of the stick and paper and a feather appeared out of nowhere. What was written on the paper meant nothing to him. The use of that stick dredged a very fuzzy memory, something he'd seen in his nightmares often enough, only that stick was white and a green light emanated from it. _Were they related in some way?_

He felt his stomach rumble again and reached for his last orange. Harry brought it to his nose and breathed its scent deeply, mouth watering at the remembered tangy taste. Fingers ran over the dimpled skin almost lovingly. He had no idea how long he sat there in the hot sun, the need for food warring with the logic of saving it for later. Hunger and thirst won out, somewhere he'd lost his water. Quickly peeling the orange, he first squeezed as much juice into his mouth as he could. After that, he ate the quartered pieces. It wasn't enough but it was all he had.

Sucking the juice from his hands, he suddenly stopped. With a sharp twist, he turned to look behind him. The man was back! Before the man could stop him, Harry began running again. After a bit, he slowed. That was when another person suddenly materialized. This time it was an older woman wearing a dark flowing dress. Giving a grunt of surprise, he turned away from her and ran some more.

Further down, the man reappeared. Then the woman. Back and forth until Harry finally couldn't run anymore and he collapsed, exhausted and dehydrated. The heat of the sun was the last thing he was aware of before passing out.

Molly had been watching out the window ever since being notified by Minerva that she and Albus were bringing someone, possibly Harry Potter, by. When the professor told her they may have found Harry, Molly didn't know what to think. She certainly wasn't expecting what she received.

As soon as the Hogwarts staff arrived, she knew something was wrong. They seemed to be holding a kid of about 13 years of age between them. _This kid is too young. How could they possibly think he's Harry Potter?_

Opening the door, she ushered them inside and directed them to place the boy on the couch. Gasping at the near-emaciated form, her motherly instincts kicked in full force. Rounding on the two adults, she let them have it.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO THIS POOR CHILD?! Have you no shame?! The poor boy looks as if he's run for hours!"

The guilty looks upon the two faces fueled her anger. "He has, hasn't he? You literally ran him here! From where?"

Even Dumbledore was half-afraid to answer the raging redhead, but he did so, quietly. "Just this side of Exeter."

"WHAT?! How dare you! I thought you had more sense than that, either of you! No wonder he's collapsed."

At that moment, the back door opened and a set of redheaded twins, a redheaded boy, and a redheaded girl entered the ramshackle home.

"Mum? What's all the screaming about?" asked one of the twins.

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, what are you doing here?" asked the red haired boy.

"Not now. Fred, get me a basin, some water and a cloth. Ron, get me a pair of your shorts and a t-shirt."

The two went off to do their mother's bidding while the other two approached the couch.

"Who's this?" the girl asked.

"I don't see how it is who it's supposed to be. This kid is too young."

"Believe me, Molly, it's him. You'll see when he's awake."

Retrieving the water from her son, Molly began bathing everywhere she could reach. Just before removing the boy's clothes, she turned to her daughter.

"Ginny, go into the kitchen and fix us all some tea. Cut up some fruit, lots of it. This poor thing looks as if he's missed a few meals."

Turning back to the child on her couch, not realizing Ginny had yet to leave, she removed the tattered shirt, lifting his still form to remove the shirt completely. What was revealed had them all sick to their stomachs.

His back was covered in scars, criss crossing like railroad tracks. Jagged white lines went every which direction with no rhyme or reason. A few wrapped around to the front of his torso or dipped beneath his waistband but it appeared his back had borne the brunt of each lashing. Hurriedly washing the teen's back, Molly lay him back on the couch, tears in her eyes.

"Who could do something like that to a child?" she whispered.

"I don't know, Molly," Dumbledore spoke, deceptively quiet. "But I intend to find out."

Nodding and wiping her eyes, Molly continued bathing the boy on her couch. Ginny left just as her Mum was undoing his pants. They found a few scars on his legs but not to the extent of his back. Taking the clothes from her son, and with a little help, she dressed the boy. The last thing she tackled was his hair to give it a good wash. Pulling his hair backward, everyone gasped at the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, though Molly continued washing it.

"What is that? It's not white like the others. This looks more recent."

"Actually, Molly, it isn't. That, I believe is a curse scar. I visited the Potter home soon after things occurred that night. I could detect the Killing Curse being cast three times and yet only James and Lily died. Harry was given a kind of protection against it. I believe we are looking at the reason Voldemort disappeared that night."

All eyes turned in shock to the boy who was just beginning to stir.

Harry slowly opened his eyes. He felt cooler, cleaner, than he'd felt in quite a while. He startled at the grouping of blurry shapes surrounding him. Sitting up quickly, he made himself as small as he could in the corner of the couch, while still groping around for his glasses. Someone handed them over and he replaced them onto his nose. Dismayed at seeing the man and woman again, he was downright fearful of the others.

One of the newcomers, the oldest, bent down and reached out, lips moving, but Harry flinched away from her touch, causing her to frown. _Oh, now, you've done it._ Covering his head with his arms, eyes squeezed shut, he tensed, turning his back to them, waiting for the blow that never came.

"What's the matter with him?" Ron, the non-twin, asked.

"As you saw, Harry has had it rough. He doesn't react well to being touched. Again, you saw that. The most important thing, though, and the most difficult thing to deal with is that he can't hear us."

Every set of Weasley eyes bounced between Dumbledore and Harry. It was Molly who spoke.

"Can't hear us? You mean, he can't hear anything? At all?"

"That's right. He ran from me when I first found him. I realized he couldn't hear me so I wrote him a note to try to explain who I was. It turns out he can't read, either. Every time I got close, he ran so Professor McGonagall and I decided to lead him this way and hope for the best."

Minerva harrumphed, and Albus amended his statement. "Okay, I decided it."

Molly frowned at the Headmaster and turned to Ginny, who had just brought in a tray laden with drinks and fruit. The Weasley matriarch picked up the bowl of sliced apples and offered some to Harry, who had finally turned back around in confusion. At his hesitation, she smiled.

Confused as to why he was being offered food, he studied the red-haired ones closely. Slowly his hand reached out for the bowl. Grabbing a single slice, he ate it in two bites. He watched as a yellow-orange liquid was poured into a cup and held out to him. Thirst won and he reached out for the cup. Sniffing it, he thought it smelled vaguely familiar and yet he couldn't remember ever having any. Bringing the cup to his lips, he sipped. A pleasant taste met his tongue and he drank it down.

He suddenly wished he hadn't as another pressing need made itself known. _Why did I drink so much? How do I tell them what I need now without completely humiliating myself?_ When the refilled cup was offered again, Harry shook his head with a pained expression. Lying his arms across his lap, he looked at each of them, hoping one of them would understand, and quickly.

George, Fred's twin, caught on. "I think he needs the loo."

Waving his hand to get Harry's attention, he made 'follow me' motion. When Harry understood, George led him to the loo, gave him a quick demonstration on how to use it, since theirs was a bit different than most, and then left.

"How are we going to communicate our intentions?"

"I'm hoping he'll be relaxed enough while he's eating that I'll be able to implant the knowledge of the alphabet, their sounds, and how to read, into his mind."

"That's even possible?" asked Ginny

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, if one is strong enough, magically."

"After that, then what? We can't go around constantly writing and it would be rude to carry on conversations around him when he couldn't participate."

"In the Muggle world, there is a way to talk with your hands, a type of language using signs. Perhaps we have someone in our world who knows this language and can teach us. After all, there's bound to be someone magical who's lost their hearing, for whatever reason."

A few minutes later, Harry returned, staring warily at the group of people watching him. For the first time, he really looked at the redheaded group. The short, plump woman was clearly the mother. Her hair, though faded a bit, still carried a red tint. She had many lines upon her face but she didn't seem to care. She smiled a lot but that didn't mean anything in Harry's experience.

The oldest boys looked exactly the same. They were tall, lanky, but muscular. Their red hair hung down to their shoulders. They were quick with a smile but their eyes had a light in them that Harry had seen before and his experience wasn't pleasant._ Then again, the one did show me where the loo was._

The other boy looked to be about his own size, but he was stockier. His wavy hair was cut on the longish side but it wasn't as long as the twins. _The clothes likely came from him. The twins' would have been too long._ Grabbing a handful of his shirt, he pointed at the boy, a question on his face. Harry watched the confusion on the boy's face melt away at something the girl said to him and he nodded, answering Harry's silent question.

Lastly, Harry's gaze landed on the girl. Where the boys had one shade of red in their hair, the girl seemed to have many shades, from light to deep red. Her hair hung down just past her shoulders. When she smiled, it seemed different, more sincere. She had dark eyes but from where he was standing, he couldn't tell anything else about them. Something about her drew him and he didn't know why. Just looking at her caused an unfamiliar tickle in his belly.

Slowly, Ginny held out her hand and took a few steps in Harry's direction. His scrutiny of her didn't bother her in the least. When he didn't move, she took a few more steps. Continuing in this manner, she stopped when she stood in front of him. Watching his eyes for any discomfort, she reached out and took his hand in hers.

Flinching slightly at the touch, he looked down at their hands, perplexed. He'd never been touched gently before and he wasn't at all sure what to make of it.

"It appears your daughter has made some kind of connection with Harry," Albus whispered. "For whatever reason, he seems to trust her."

They looked on as Ginny brought Harry back to the couch and motioned for him to sit. He did so but continued to watch them warily. Hearing a loud rumble emanate from the vicinity of Harry's stomach, Ginny picked up a small plate and filled it with apple slices and orange quarters. Holding it out to him, she watched, saddened, as two dominant needs warred with each other, the need for food and the need for caution. As before, hunger won out and Harry accepted the plate and the cup that followed.

Everyone sat, Ginny next to Harry on the couch and Dumbledore across from Harry, and took snacks and drinks themselves. As soon as Harry glanced up at the him, Dumbledore took the opportunity. Looking deep into Harry's eyes, he forged a mental link between them. Gathering all the knowledge he wanted to pass on, he broke it into small chunks and sent them individually through the link into Harry's mind.

Harry didn't know what was happening but he couldn't seem to break the old man's gaze. Suddenly, he knew things he didn't know before and it scared him. _What's happening? What is he doing to me?_

_I'm just giving you some basic knowledge you should have already learned, _a calm voice said inside Harry's head.

Letters were formed in certain ways and made sounds. Sounds formed words. Words had meanings and created sentences. Numbers flew through his head. They could be added together to make more or taken away to make less. So many things made sense now. A feeling he hadn't experienced in years, swelled inside. Excitement. He wanted to try out this new knowledge.

Slowly, the link faded out and Harry was almost sorry to see it go. Blinking, he stared at the man, curious. The man wrote on a piece of paper and turned it to Harry.

**My name is Albus Dumbledore. The lady with me is Minerva McGonagall. You are in the Weasley's home. We are witches and wizards, magical people. You, too, are a wizard, Harry.**

Harry took the feather, paused to inspect it a moment before putting it to paper, and methodically began to write. It looked like a 6 year old's writing but it was legible.

**Is that what it's called? Those things I can do that no one else can? It's called magic?**

Molly summoned a whole roll of parchment, another quill and ink. She dipped the quill into the ink and handed it to Harry. He stared at her, still wary about who these people were but his curiosity and excitement got the better of him.

Dumbledore turned the parchment back to Harry, answering the questions Harry had written and added a few of his own.

**Yes, it's magic and you're a very powerful wizard. Harry, why were you alone? Where is your family?**

The light left Harry's eyes and the smile slipped from his face. He'd known. He'd known he should have been wary of these strangers. Hadn't it been proven time and again that he couldn't trust anyone? _Bloody hell, they give you a little food and drink and you completely toss out the window everything you've learned? Rule number one: Don't trust anyone. They all want something from you._

Harry stood, crumbled the parchment into a ball and threw it across the room. Tears of anger and sadness threatened to fall so he ran out the door he'd spotted on his way to the loo.

Accusing glares turned to the Headmaster and the aged wizard sighed. "Perhaps I pushed too quickly. I'll see if I can find him."

"Of course you did," Molly angrily ranted. "He's been thrown for a loop. From the looks of things, he's never had a reason to trust anyone since that night and here you are asking about something painful. If you want a chance of him coming back, I suggest you leave. If the kids don't find him, I'll send for you."

Weighing his options, he came to the decision that Molly could be right. Albus glanced at Ginny, hoping whatever connection she had made with Harry hadn't been severed by those thoughtless questions. He turned to his companion.

"You've been quiet."

"What's left to say? I think Molly covered it quite nicely. I'm just hoping the boy gives them another chance. If they can get through to him, perhaps it'll open the door again for us."

Dumbledore stared in the direction Harry had gone. "Let's hope for, whether he knows it or not, he's returned to a very dangerous world."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry ran out the back door and kept going. His vision swam while his mind berated him for daring to think these people were different. _You're stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You know better than that. They weren't what you thought. You should know by now people are all the same. Hurtful, untrustworthy. No one will ever care about you. You're unlovable._ A timid voice inside his head spoke. _But the girl seemed so nice. She seemed to care._ The other, vicious voice sneered at the thought. _That's what they want you to think. Are you so stupid you'll fall for a pretty face?_

Harry clapped his hands over his temples, trying to rid his head of everything. He came upon a rocky stream and began pitching rocks, small and large, in every direction with every ounce of strength, the disdainful voice playing in his head. Angry, yet strangely muted cries emerged from his throat. _You're weak and pathetic. You've survived alone all this time. Why do you suddenly want someone around? If your own Mum and Dad didn't love you, what makes you think someone else would?_

The voice taunted him mercilessly. Harry, arms wrapped around his head as if trying to protect himself, fell to the bank of the stream. He sat there, knees drawn up, tears of a lost hope rolling down his face, rocking back and forth, piteous whimpers and moans barely audible above the babbling of the stream. His mind faded away to a fairy-tale land where only good things could happen. It was the place his mind would go during his beatings, a place he hadn't had to visit in a year.

"Okay, I want you four to spread out and look for Harry," Molly informed her children firmly. "If you find him, do NOT approach him. Just come back and let me know where he is. If you try to approach him, you may spook him and chase him further away. Or he may think you're going to hurt him and you'll end up using magic and doing each other harm."

"If we don't try to talk to him, then how are going to get him back?" asked Ron.

"We're going to use a basic need," she smirked, looking much like her mischievous twins. "He needs food and water. We'll supply it. My mum used to tell me the way to any man's heart was through his stomach."

Fred leaned over to Ginny and in a stage whisper said, "You'd better make sure Hermione knows that, then."

Ginny laughed, George snickered, Ron blushed and Molly smiled. It was well-known that Hermione was interested in Ron and vice versa but Ron hadn't gathered the courage to do anything about it.

"Everyone clear?" At their head nods, Molly continued. "I'm going to contact your father and get him home. Then I'll start on the food for our little operation."

Ginny found Harry sitting against a rock, curled in on himself, completely unaware of his surroundings. Rocking back and forth and whimpering, he reminded her of the augurey, a thin, underfed bird whose mournful cries depressed any who heard them. It was heart-wrenching to see him like that and she wanted, desperately, to go to him and give him everything she'd taken for granted in life, but she knew her mother was right. If they took care of his most basic needs first, he may just learn to accept them.

With tears falling down her cheeks, she cautiously retreated, not wanting him to sense her presence or her movement to catch his eye. She was still sniffling when she entered the kitchen a little while later.

"Ginny? Are you okay? What's happened?" Molly asked, beginning to panic.

"Molly, let her answer before throwing another question at her," Arthur instructed calmly.

"I found Harry," Ginny sniffed, "It was so sad. He's out by the stream. He was just sitting there, all curled up, like a ball, and rocking back and forth and making the saddest sounds you ever heard."

Molly sent off a messenger Patronus to each of her sons, telling them Harry had been found and to return home. After filling a jug with water, she loaded a small basket with some apples, a couple oranges, and a banana. Next, she took a piece of parchment, wrote on it and attached it to the basket, gift card style.

"There. Take this and leave out there where he'll find it. I'd suggest not too terribly close so we can retrieve the basket and jug without disturbing him."

Ginny headed out and met up with her brothers.

"Where is he?" asked Fred.

"I'm not going to say. This way there'll be less people wandering around."

"But if we don't know where he is, how can we avoid bothering him?"

"Good point, Ron," agreed George.

"Fine. He's out at the stream. I'm taking this out there in the hopes he accepts it."

Harry found the basket of food, saw the note attached. His head throbbed as the nasty little voice scorned the offering. _They're trying to reel you in. Don't be stupid enough to fall for it. They don't want anything to do with you. Stay strong. Refuse it._ He was upset enough, he didn't bother reading the note. He wanted nothing to do with that man but since he couldn't undo what had been done, he refused to use his new skills.

_They think they can just make everything all right by bringing food and water? Nothing will ever be all right. I've learned my lesson._

For three mornings, Ginny went out to check the food and water, each time hoping to see empty containers, just to be disappointed to find them obviously untouched. On the third morning, she reentered the kitchen and shook her head.

"How much longer can he last?" Ginny asked, worriedly, looking out the kitchen window. "He was hungry when he left here. Why is he being so stubborn about this?"

"It's not that he's being stubborn, Ginny," her mother gently replied. "Since _that_ night, he's had no one in his life whom he could trust. He could see the food and water as being tainted or that we'd be expecting something from him in return. He's never had anyone do anything nice for him for no reason. I know he was hungry when he left and unfortunately it's a feeling he's become accustomed to. He'll come around. Just wait."

Even though Molly seemed calm and confident on the outside, she too, was concerned about how long it was taking. She was sorely tempted to go out there and Body Bind the boy, bring him back and force-feed him but she knew that would do more damage.

The fourth morning, Harry woke to a gnawing hunger and extremely parched throat. The sun lit the basket and jug as if the heavens were telling him to eat and drink. Before he realized it, he was walking over, emptying the basket and downing the water. He had to eat and drink if he wanted to live and he did want to live. For once he told that little scornful voice in his head to _Shut up, I'm hungry and thirsty and I want to live. _Meticulously, he peeled the oranges, not wanting lose any of the juice. After those, he went for the apples, gnawing each core to remove every little bit he could. The banana went last.

Stomach cramping a little for eating so fast, he only hoped more would come.

That same morning, Ginny went to check the food and water, not really expecting anything to have changed, so was utterly surprised to find the basket empty, orange and banana peels and apple cores littering the ground. The water had also been drunk. Glancing around, she didn't see Harry anywhere but had the feeling he was watching her. With a bright smile on her face, she turned a complete circle so he could see she was happy, grabbed the two containers and ran back to the house to refill them.

Harry watched the girl from the safety of a tree, the tree right above her. He saw the look of shock on her face to find the fruit and water gone. He'd also seen the wide smile on her face, how her whole face lit up with happiness. Seeing her that way caused an unfamiliar feeling bubble up from the depths of his soul. It was a pleasant sensation. He'd made her happy and he felt good. One side of his lips tipping fractionally upward, he watched her run home with the basket and jug.

"Mum! Mum! Look!" Ginny cried, running into the kitchen. "He took it! He took it!"

Ginny knew she probably sounded like some little girl but she just couldn't help the excitement and relief she felt at the idea of Harry beginning to accept them. There was just something about Harry that intrigued her, something behind his eyes. She could see the intelligence there but something about him called out to her and she couldn't help but respond.

"Oh, that's so good to see!" Molly exclaimed, relief evident in her voice. "Sit down and rest while I refill these then you can take them back out. I'll put a charm on the jug so it never runs out. I'd use it on the food but I think a variety is what he needs."

This time, Molly filled the basket with bread, an apple and orange, and a couple carrots. She refilled the jug and tapped it with her wand.

"All set. Take it back out when you're ready."

"Mum," Ginny asked, hesitantly, "Are you going to tell Professor Dumbledore about this? I only ask because I don't think he should be around right now."

"Ginny," scolded Ron, "It's the Headmaster. He's the one who brought Harry to us in the first place."

Ginny rounded on her brother, voice filled with scorn. "Yeah, and the reason Harry took off again." She turned back to her mother. "I get the feeling Harry's beginning to trust us and we know he doesn't trust Dumbledore. If we bring in the Professor now, Harry might take off for good."

"I'll update him with this news and strongly advise him to stay away a while longer." Molly eyed her daughter. "Something tells me you're right about Harry."

As Ginny took the basket back out, Molly made the call, stating in no uncertain terms that he should stay away until things had calmed. He didn't like it but finally agreed when Molly wouldn't budge.

A week later, Harry was forced to make a decision. He was well aware the food continually was placed closer and closer to the house. Every afternoon the basket and jug would be placed a little closer to the house than they had been in the morning. Despite his past experiences, he was beginning to believe these people meant him no harm. Hidden, he'd watched the boys and the girl zoom around on some kind of flying sticks and laughing. He'd watched the mum go out to her garden and pick foods, some of which he'd seen in his basket. Most convincing, though, was that he'd seen no sign of the old man or his companion.

Once again he was arguing with himself. _You've done fine on your own. Who needs them? They'll never love you. You're unlovable, remember?_ Then the other voice, the one that used to be timid, would make itself known. _They've been giving me perfectly good food and water. They've given me clothes._ _I'm tired of being alone. What can it hurt? I'll be cautious. Yeah, I'll be cautious and watch for any hint of a trap. The first sign and I'm gone._

That decision made, he jumped from the tree he'd been sitting in, grabbed the now empty basket and the half-full water jug, and with guarded footsteps, made his way to The Burrow's back door. He could see the mum working in the kitchen. His legs began to grow rubbery, his palms to sweat, and his heart to race. His raised fist halted just above the wooden door. _Do I really want to do this? YES._ Contact.

Molly, confused as to who would be tapping at her back door turned around and nearly jumped with joy. Since she'd set eyes on the young man, she'd vowed to take him in as if he were her own son. Her heart broke at the hardness of his eyes, the stiff way he carried himself. More, though, she mourned the fact that two decent people would never be able to give their love to the son they left behind, a son who needed it desperately. _My, even now, I can see the resemblance to James. Mirror image. Those eyes, though. That color. Those are definitely Lily's._ Molly wished they'd known the Potters better but swore she would do her very best for their son.

Advancing slowly so as not to spook him, Molly smiled and set down her cooking utensils as she went. She opened the door and, forgetting for a moment, reached out to take him by the arm and guide him inside like she would have done anyone. His flinch at the touch and backward jump, brought her back to her senses and her hands immediately moved away from him. She held them up, palm out, as if to say 'Sorry'. Motioning him forward, she coaxed him into the kitchen and pointed to a chair at the table, offering him a seat.

"Mum, have you seen my--,"

Ginny came into the kitchen and froze when she saw her mother wasn't alone. Harry still stood just inside the doorway and looked for all the world like a rabbit about to bolt. Not knowing what to do, she stood there, rooted to the spot until he gave some kind of sign. What kind, she wasn't sure but thought she'd know it when she saw it.

Molly watched Ginny watching Harry. There was something in her daughter's expression but she couldn't figure it out. She turned to Harry. He hadn't taken his eyes off Ginny, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side. What she saw in his eyes saddened her. Hunger. Not a lustful hunger but one of companionship, of friendship, a need for positive human contact. Aware she seemed to be swearing several oaths that day, she swore another. Whatever Harry needed, he seemed to see in Ginny, so Molly silently promised him access to her whenever and however he needed it.

To Harry, the appearance of the girl brought about that strange tug again. Warm maple syrup. That was the color of her eyes. He could almost get lost in them. When he looked into them, he could almost see the person behind them. He could see sincerity and kindness and something else, something she was hiding. Surprisingly, that didn't bother him. Somehow, he knew, whatever it was she was hiding, didn't directly affect him.

Ginny had let the door between the kitchen and sitting room swing shut when she'd entered. Now it opened, knocking Ginny forward, right towards Harry with nothing to use to stop herself. Harry's eyes also widened at the realization. He gulped, knowing what he was going to have to do. He didn't want her to get hurt, after all. All at once, he took a deep breath and put out his hands, flinching badly when she grabbed his arms. He'd closed his eyes in anticipation of an impact but it never came. He realized she wasn't touching him anymore, either, and opened his eyes. She stood at arm's length and smiled her thanks.

Ginny was shocked Harry had initiated the contact, even if it was to stop her from hitting him. Thankfully, she'd managed not to touch him any more than that. She'd hate to have seen his reaction if his flinch at her grabbing his arms was any indication. Ginny stepped back quickly and let him go. When he finally opened his eyes, she gave him a thankful smile, she hoped, before whipping around to see Ron standing in the doorway, hand still on the door.

"Gee, thanks Ron, for nearly sending me on an inspection tour of the floor!"

"Don't be so dramatic, Ginny," a touch of irritation showing, "You wouldn't have hit the floor."

"Only because Harry stopped me, which is another thing. You could have messed up all our efforts. You know how much he hates to be touched. You _have_ to be more careful."

"Sorry, I thought the door was stuck." Ron's face turned red, his anger building at being chastised for an accident. "I didn't know you were standing in front of it. That makes it your fault."

"A simple 'Excuse me' would have been sufficient." Ginny's hands went to her hips.

"All right now, you two, that's enough," intervened Molly, "Ron, mind your manners next time. Harry's just come to us. We don't want to do anything to make him leave."

"Oh, yeah," Ron said sheepishly, the significance of Harry being in their kitchen just hitting him.

Molly took up her utensils and began preparing lunch. Arthur would be coming home for lunch on his way to an investigation and she wanted everything ready and waiting for him.

Harry watched the three redheads talk. The stance of the girl was tense, one arm outstretched as if indicating something, the floor maybe. He watched the boy's body tense in reaction and his expression changed to one of irritation. Harry had seen that look many times. It was usually the precursor to something bad. But then the mum walked over to them, said something and the anger went away. This utterly baffled Harry. _How did she do that? What did she say? Anger has to have an outlet in order to go away, doesn't it?_

He watched as the matriarch went back to her cooking and the other two sat at the table. The girl raised her hand and pointed to a chair. He sat on the edge of the chair closest to the door. She smiled, held up a finger and ran into the other room a minute. She came back with writing supplies. She wrote for a few minutes then gave the message to him.

Harry didn't want to read it. He didn't trust that old man, didn't want anything to do with him or his gift but the longer the note sat there on the table between them, the harder it was to ignore. The inked words beckoned like the cool water of a pond on a summer's day. Curiosity besting his stubbornness, he retrieved the note.

**Hi, Harry**

**My name is Ginny. My brother is Ron. My twin brothers are Fred and George. Mum's name is Molly and Dad's is Arthur. You haven't met him yet. I'm writing with a quill dipped into ink and it's written on parchment.**

He looked up at each of them, reconciling their faces with their names. After a few moments of contemplation, he could only think of one thing to write.

**Hi.**

Ginny read it and smiled and wrote another lengthy message.

**I'm glad you're here. We all are. I'll make you a promise. I won't ask you about your past unless it's absolutely necessary. I won't push you to 'talk' about it but if you ever feel the need, I'll be here.**

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He liked that she was being honest, at least it seemed like she was, only time would tell for sure. Again, he wrote one word.

**Okay.**

Ginny chuckled at the note, thinking she'd reduced him to one word replies. She wasn't sure what else to say until she heard Ron's stomach gurgle.

"Mum, what's for lunch? Is Dad joining us?"

"Your father has an investigation that's taking him out of the office so yes, he'll be joining us. I'm making a shepherd's pie with bread and butter. For dessert, I have a treacle tart already made."

Ginny wrote down everything her mum said for Harry's benefit. Then she asked him if he would be comfortable touring their home. She could see the wheels turning in his mind, saddening her a little. _What must it be like to always have to think a step a head? To always be on the alert. Never being allowed to just enjoy something. Must be a very lonely existence._ She began to think maybe she'd pushed a little too far, when he nodded his head.

Smiling, she waved at him to follow her, gathering the quill, ink and parchment. She explained in as shortly a note as possible about Floo travel and communication, chuckling at his expression of skepticism. She showed him the family clock, where all hands were pointing to either work or home. Ginny bit her lip to keep from laughing when Harry merely scratched his head in confusion.

The next stops were the bedrooms. She showed him her room in case he ever needed to search her out during the night. She mentioned the creaky step she'd learned to avoid so as not to wake anyone else on one of her nighttime wanderings. She mentioned Bill, Charlie and Percy since he hadn't met them, grinning when he started counting on his fingers, knowing exactly what he was counting. When he reached seven, he glanced up at her, a question in his eyes.

**Yes, Harry, there are seven of us kids. I'm the youngest. I'll be fifteen in August. Ron is a year older than me. The twins are two years older than Ron. **

Harry read the note and realized something. He and Ginny were the same age. He didn't know why that was such a surprise but it was. _Maybe because she acts older sometimes, like those secrets she's keeping makes her feel old._ He certainly knew how that felt.

Ginny showed him her parents' room and, lastly, Ron's room. It was painted orange. The bed had an orange Chudley Cannons comforter and posters on the wall. She was anxious to see Harry's reaction to the garishly decorated room. She was pretty sure her mum would be having Harry sleep there if he wanted.

Harry stepped in and blinked owlishly. He could not believe the monochromatic nature. His brow furrowed, nose wrinkled in mild distaste of the color. Afraid he'd offended the girl, he quickly glanced in her direction. She stood off to the side, biting her lower lip. Taking in her dancing eyes, he smiled and so did she. Casually, he walked around the room, trying not to let on what his true objective was.

Ginny watched Harry wander around to the window and look out. He'd done so in every room he'd entered. It was like he was checking his escape routes. Afraid to say anything, she let him be. _If he felt more comfortable this way, then who am I to say anything?_

Hearing her mum yell for them to come down for lunch, Ginny got Harry's attention and let him know it was time for lunch.

Stopping off at the loo to wash, Harry held the writing supplies while Ginny washed and vice versa. Curious about why she didn't just make them disappear, Harry asked her about it. Her answer puzzled him. _Why do they not allow them to use magic? They said using magic was normal._ Harry didn't like using his abilities because of the memories that came with them. Trying to puzzle out this contradictory world he found himself in occupied his mind all the way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Unaware he'd stopped moving, Ginny sat down at the table. When he didn't sit down, she looked up to find him watching her father rather nervously. Hoping to put Harry at ease, she wrote on a piece of parchment an introduction to her father. A few words to her dad had him offering Harry a seat at the table. Perched on a seat edge, Harry sat across from Ginny.

Arthur tried not to stare at the gangly teen at his table but he couldn't seem to quit. He watched as Harry spooned a portion of food barely big enough to keep a bird alive onto his plate and attempted to pass the dish to Molly**. **She took it but doubled, if not tripled, Harry's serving. The look of astonishment on the kid's face made him sigh quietly. Next, Arthur passed the bread basket and watched the same sequence of events take place. At least with the pumpkin juice, Harry filled his glass.

The Weasley patriarch had never watched anyone who savored every bite he ate. Arthur knew the boy had been subsisting on fruits, a few vegetables, and bread for the past week. He also knew it had likely been scraps or the occasional stolen fruit while Harry had been on his own and who knew before that. The boy had to be starving and yet he took his time.

The meal started well. For a Weasley gathering of any kind, it was quiet, not wanting to be rude and talk in front of Harry without him knowing what was being said. Ginny passed a note to Harry who, in turn, answered. This went back and forth until disaster struck.

While Harry was answering Ginny's note, his hand bumped his full cup, knocking it over. Horrified, Harry yanked it up, but upset the juice pitcher and it spilled. Panicking, he tried to catch the pitcher but only succeeded in tipping the sheperd's pie dish enough to spill half of that. Swinging his hand back from that, it swung and hit the edge of his plate, sending it half off the table before it was caught.

Everyone had jumped back away from the table. Harry stood still, hands fingering his dinner plate, head hanging low, shoulders slumped. He'd made a mess and he needed to be punished. Harry noticed Arthur wore a belt. Pointing at it, he finally made it clear that he wanted it. Puzzled, Arthur unfastened it and handed it over.

Harry inspected it and nodded his approval. He folded it, end to end, before handing it back, forcing Arthur to hold the bent section, leaving the two ends free. Turning his back on the man, Harry reached back and pulled his shirt up, revealing his back. Then waited, eyes closed, muscles tensed in anticipation of the first whipping.

Arthur stared, at first not comprehending what it was Harry expected him to do. He blanched when he realized what had caused some of the scars now visible to him. He dropped the belt as if it had burned him. He didn't know what to do now. He had been warned Harry didn't like to be touched, so he just waited.

Several tense moments passed before Harry opened his eyes to see why he hadn't been punished yet. Catching sight of the belt on the table, he picked it up and handed it again to Arthur and started to turn around when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the belt fall to the table once more._ Maybe he doesn't understand what I'm wanting._ Harry picked up the belt and demonstrated whipping someone, the buckle end flying freely, before trying to hand it back.

Arthur could not believe what he was seeing. Harry was expecting to be punished, was practically insisting on it, for an accident. The thought of punishing someone in such way was so abhorrent that he shuddered. He briefly glanced at his family and saw the same looks of horror on their faces. Arthur shook his head and refused to accept the belt. Reaching for the parchment and quill, he wrote his own note.

**We do NOT punish anyone in that way in this house. If we decide punishment is needed, we give chores or confine the person to their bedroom. We do NOT punish for accidents and that's all this was.**

He handed it to Harry, hoping the mealtime wreck wouldn't cause a setback with his progress.

Harry read it, glanced at each of the Weasleys, confusion clouding his eyes. Realizing Ginny's father was being truthful, he dropped the note and ran, not for the door, to everyone's surprise, but into the sitting room. Moments later, thumps went up the stairs and a door shut.

Molly broke the silence, tears falling down her cheeks. "Oh, Arthur. Can you believe it? Imagine being punished in such a way. And for an accident? The way he just stood there and expected you to hit him. And with the buckle end, no less. Do you think that's how he got the other scars?"

"Most," Arthur cleared his throat, "Most likely."

He glanced at his daughter's tears, his son's wide eyes, could see his wife's obviously breaking heart.

"I think I need to have a talk with Harry, man to man."

"Dad," Ginny sniffed, "I promised we wouldn't ask about his past unless it was absolutely necessary."

"Well, sweetheart, I think it's pretty necessary. He practically begged to be beaten. That had to have come from somewhere. I won't push for answers."

"What about work, dear?"

"Call them and tell them something's come up here at home. I'm taking the rest of the day off."

Arthur walked off in search of the boy. Every time he put on a belt now, he'd think of Harry and those scars. He wanted to rail at the injustice Harry had had to endure in his young life. He had no idea how to go about finding the people responsible but he swore he was going to try. He was half afraid of what he might do to them if he did find them.

The first bedroom he came to, Ginny's room, he opened the door. Sure enough, Harry was there, sitting in the windowsill, apparently deep in thought. Not wanting to startle the lad, Arthur gave him a wide berth to try to be seen in Harry's peripheral vision, stomping his feet as he went, hoping the vibrations would announce his presence. It worked.

Harry looked up, full of confusion and yet he appeared ready to run. Arthur borrowed some parchment and quill from Ginny's desk and wrote another message.

**Harry, you and I need to have a man to man conversation.**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Arthur paced the confines of his daughter's room, trying to figure what to say and how to say it. He was afraid of saying too much and sending the boy right back out their back door but he didn't want to be accused later on of hiding anything. In the end, he decided honesty was just better.

**Harry, I know you haven't been treated nicely from people who were supposed to care for you but I want you to know something. They were not your real parents. They had adopted you after your real parents had been killed.**

Reading this, Harry jumped up and began furiously pacing the room. Memories assaulted his mind and he ground the heels of his hands into his temples in an attempt to keep them at bay.

_...he just wanted that shiny ball and he couldn't reach it. He could make his toys do things. Why was that so wrong? ...What did I do this time? I don't understand. How can I fix it if I don't know what I did wrong? ...I did something wrong again. He has that look in his eye. Uh, oh, he's using the switch this time. I must have done something really bad. One, ow, two, ow, three, ow..nine, ow, ten, ow. ...What now? I only did what he showed me to do. At least it's only the belt. ...They think they're so special. I guess they are, they blame everything on me. Those stupid jokes aren't funny. They just make me behind in my chores. I have to watch them closely._

_...Hey, someone let me out of here! Please! It's cold and dark and cramped. I don't like it. This isn't funny! Help! _

Arthur watched the boy prowl the room fighting demons only he knew about. He hated to be the one to explain everything but thought the boy deserved to know. As he watched, Arthur noticed something come over Harry. Before his eyes, the boy appeared to regress to a younger age. His shoulders slumped, back curved. Lost in his own personal Hell, Harry suddenly threw his arms about his head, for protection, and fell into a corner of the room, flinching at regular intervals as if being hit. Then he began pounding on the walls with his fists, sounds of extreme distress bursting free from under used vocal chords. When Harry started clawing at the walls causing his fingernails to break and bleed, Arthur knew he had to do something, quickly. But what?

Deciding to take a chance, he knelt beside Harry and lightly but firmly held one of the clawing hands. He could feel the magic gather inside Harry like a violent summer storm, just begging to be let loose. Whatever happened, Arthur hoped it wouldn't completely break the young man beside him.

Harry came back to the present and was instantly confused. He was on his knees in a corner of the room, thoroughly exhausted and trembling. His hands, particularly his fingertips, ached and was shocked to see blood. Looking at the shredded wallpaper in front of him, he saw blood there. Catching sight of his hands, he noticed a much larger one wrapped around his wrist. It wasn't an uncomfortably tight grip but more of a steady one. Following the arm, up passed the shoulder, he looked into the caring eyes of Arthur Weasley.

Guessing what happened, Harry was utterly mortified. This had happened before. One simple little thing, a sight or smell, even a taste had sent him back to a war zone of sorts. He couldn't believe it had happened again. Here of all places and in front of this man who'd been nothing but kind to him. _Why now? What had we been talking about?_ Then it hit him. Arthur had mentioned his parents and Harry could feel the magic swirling and boiling inside him, his hold on it slipping. He started to panic.

Arthur understood the look of panic, for he could feel the power in the air, and knew what had to be done. Quickly drawing his wand, he always had it on him, even at home, he charmed the room to absorb the coming power. The next thing he did was to cast a shield around himself and Harry that allowed the power to flow through without doing them any damage. Arthur sat next to Harry, gently touched his arm and nodded. Ready.

Harry watched as the man cast his spells with practiced ease. He wasn't sure how he knew but he knew the man was there to help. He felt like a soda bottle that had been shaken too much. He was about to spew and he couldn't stop it. Mr. Weasley sat beside him and lightly took his arm, nodding.

Feeling his head was going to explode, an involuntary moan of pain left Harry as the magical tsunami pushed out of him, brilliantly lighting the room. Unbeknownst to Harry, the air was rent with a loud, electrifying crackle, a sound not unlike a tree being hit by lightning then splitting apart. He slumped down along the wall and blacked out.

Arthur was stunned at the amount of power the teen had put out. How Harry had managed to keep a lid on it as long as he had, Arthur would never know. He conjured a camp bed and crammed it against the wall opposite Ginny's bed. Gently picking Harry up, he lay him upon it and covering him with a light blanket.

The sounds of many feet pounded up the stairs and Arthur quickly removed the shields from the room. The door flew open and Ginny rushed in, madder than a dragon whose prey was just beyond reach.

"What happened in here! I thought you were going to have a nice little chat then suddenly there's pounding, a crackling sound and the entire house shook."

Seeing Harry asleep on the cot, she rushed over to him. Apparently the talk hadn't gone well. She felt guilty for what happened. After all, she'd promised there wouldn't be any questions about Harry's past. With her attention so focused, she hadn't noticed the corner of her room.

"What happened here?" asked Ron, pointing to the bloody and shredded wallpaper.

Molly and Ginny looked at the spot and gasped. Ginny picked up one of Harry's hands and examined his fingernails. Ragged and bleeding, she looked to her father for answers. Molly hustled over and healed them.

Arthur sighed. "I told him that the parents he knew weren't his real parents. He must have flashed back to some of the worst moments. Next thing I knew, he was huddled in the corner, banging on the walls like he was stuck somewhere and couldn't get out. When that didn't work, he clawed at the walls. It was like watching a wild animal in a trap. You could feel the fear."

He shook his head and shuddered. Molly wrapped her husband in her arms, silently encouraging him to continue.

"I had to stop him before he seriously hurt himself so I took the hand I could reach and just held it. It was a bit of a struggle not to let him do any more damage but it worked. He came out of it."

"That explains the banging but what about that cracking sound?" Ron asked quietly.

"I get the distinct impression he hasn't been using his magic. I'm guessing he suffered a magical overload. I could feel it building as he was reliving those memories. By the time he came out of it, his hold on it was tenuous. When the very air started crackling, I knew I didn't have much time to act. I charmed the room to absorb the magical energy and shielded us from being affected by the release. The sound you heard was Harry losing control."

"Blimey!," Ron softly exclaimed, looking to the black-haired boy. "That was some power!"

"Well, as I said, it's likely he hasn't been using it and when you don't, it can build to catastrophic proportions."

"But we're not allowed to use it when we're not in school and this doesn't happen to us."

"There's a difference between not using your magic for a summer and suppressing it for years."

"Maybe if he understood it was okay to use it, this wouldn't happen." Ginny turned to her dad. "Can you get me special permission to use magic? If he saw me using it, he might get more comfortable about it and use it himself."

"That's a good idea, sweetheart. I'll talk to Dumbledore and see if there's something he can do."

Seeing the look in his son's eyes, he sighed again. "I'm sorry, Ron. I might be able to get one of you but highly doubt I can get permission for you both. For whatever reason, Harry trusts Ginny so will likely be spending more time with her. Later on, as he becomes comfortable with us, perhaps I can get you permission. Do you understand, son?"

"Yeah, I do," he resignedly nodded.

"Let's go downstairs," Molly suggested.

"I'm going to stay here in case he wakes up."

Molly and Arthur exchanged a glance before they nodded. A quick flick of her wrist and Molly had the wall back to its original state. The three Weasleys left. Ginny picked up a book and began to read.

A knock softly sounded on the door before the door opened. Molly carried a supper tray and set it on Ginny's desk.

"I didn't think you'd want to come downstairs so I brought this up to you."

"Thanks, Mum."

"Any change?"

"He's rolled over a couple times but he hasn't awakened."

"That's not surprising, really. He must be absolutely drained, emotionally as well as magically."

Molly sat on Ginny's bed and watched her daughter eat. When Ginny was done, Molly told her the news.

"Arthur talked to Dumbledore. You now have permission to use magic but it's only for this summer, not next. Special circumstances and all that."

Ginny grinned. "Thanks, Mum."

"No pranks or that privilege will be revoked. You hear me?"

"I have to defend myself against Fred and George, don't I?"

"Well, okay, but ONLY in defense. Another thing. Dumbledore believes Harry needs to know of his past and your father and I agree. We think _you_ should tell him. It may be easier to take coming from you."

"But...But...But if the mere mention of his so-called caregivers did _this_ to him," she pointed at Harry and in the vague direction of the once damaged walls, "how can I bring it up without something happening again?"

"I know it's a large burden to place on your shoulders and ordinarily I'd object to it, but there's something between you, not romantically, but some kind of link. I've seen it. He trusts you. Perhaps you could start by telling him how, in our world, he's famous and why. Then maybe the door would open to mention his real parents. Just feel your way along. You'll know what's right."

Molly patted Ginny's knee a moment before taking the tray and leaving. After an evening of alternating between reading, watching Harry, and thinking of the conversation she was now burdened with, Ginny decided sleep was in order. After a quick check to make sure Harry was still asleep, she hurriedly changed into her night clothes and fell into bed.

Upon waking early the next morning, the first thing Harry noticed was that he was lying on something cushiony. The next was the scent of cleanliness. Breathing deeply, he tried to place the scent but couldn't. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at a wall. He rolled over quickly and squinted at the other occupant in the room. Patting around, he found the slightly oversized glasses and put them on. He didn't know what surprised him more. The fact he'd slept so long, he could see the sky through the window, just barely lightening from the sunrise when it had previously been midday, or the fact that he'd been placed in the girl's, Ginny's, room.

As he watched, she began to dream and, from what Harry could tell, they weren't pleasant. Her head jerked on her pillow, arms and legs twitched. He could only imagine what it was she was saying. All at once, she began thrashing against an unseen enemy and tears leaked from her eyes. Harry's eyes darted between Ginny and the bedroom door, hoping someone could hear her and would come to wake her up. The longer he waited, the more obvious it became that no one had a clue as to what was happening.

Harry understood nightmares. He'd had them for as long as he could remember. He also knew the one thing he'd always wished for, after having one, was the comfort of another. Without consciously making the decision, he got up and silently took the few steps to Ginny's side. His stomach was in knots over what he was about to do but Harry knew it was the right thing.

Reaching out, he shook her, gently at first but then more firmly. Her eyes flew open and she sprang to a sitting position. Awkwardly, Harry put his arms around her in an effort to give what little comfort he could. She sat holding herself stiffly and Harry was about to remove his arms when he felt her own wrap around him and hold tightly to him. He couldn't stop the flinch at the contact but he continued to hold her and let her cry on his shoulder

After a while, Ginny realized who it was holding her and she pulled back in surprise, dropping her arms from him in the process. She felt his arms slip away and the small sheepish smile that tipped one corner of his lips filled her with awe. Here he was, someone who had little to no experience with comfort and positive interactions, someone who hated to be touched, attempting to comfort her because of a nightmare she'd had. Her heart swelled and she felt like crying but she didn't.

Getting up she walked over to her desk to retrieve writing supplies and returned to her bed. She sat, back against the wall, and wrote a quick message.

**Thanks for that.**

Harry shrugged off her gratitude with a quick message of his own.

**I know what it's like.**

He didn't have to elaborate for Ginny to understand his meaning. It dawned on her that she could tell him what her nightmare had been about. That discussion could lead to one of his family's history. She heard his stomach rumble and hers answered in kind. _But not before breakfast._

**Would you mind if I talked about it?**

Harry hesitated a fraction of a second before replying. He'd always wanted someone to talk to. How could he deny her that chance?

**No.**

Ginny smiled. Inside, she was relieved. She was half afraid he would have said yes and she would have had to have found another way to bring up what needed to be said.

**After breakfast. I'm starving and I know you have to be hungry too.**

Harry smiled and wrote.

**Okay. ** **Seeing your brother eat, I suppose I shouldn't get between you and food.**

He'd meant it as a joke but when Ginny just sat there after having read it, he began to think he'd insulted her. _Stupid, Harry. You've gone and insulted the one person who'd shown you nothing but kindness._ He was about to take the parchment back and apologize when she laughed. Harry found himself wishing he could hear her laugh. _At least, she's not upset._

Ginny had been shocked at what Harry had written. She hadn't expected the dry humor. It was a glimpse into the real Harry and it had taken her by surprise. Delighted at this discovery, she laughed and wrote once more.

**You've got Ron pegged but I'm a bit more civilized. Just don't press your luck.**

Harry smiled again and felt something he couldn't remember feeling. It bubbled up within him and made him want to laugh. Instead, a few snickers escaped.

Ginny stared at Harry. She couldn't believe how a simple smile could transform his features. His beautiful green eyes lit from the inside with that smile. She couldn't help the thought that when he smiled like that, he was kind of nice to look at. Then he snickered and her heart tripped a little and her stomach swooped.

Realizing she was in a plain T-shirt and shorts, she donned her bathrobe and motioned for him to follow her downstairs.

After breakfast, Ginny took Harry to one of her favorite 'alone' spots. It was near the same stream she'd found him at a week ago. They sat and watched as the sun woke up the world. Unable to put it off any longer, Ginny began to write.

**My nightmare involved something that happened to me during my first year at Hogwarts, our school of magic.**

She went on to explain that, though most magic is good, there is also bad. A sentence or two at a time, she explained how she'd gotten caught up with someone who was evil and had been controlled by that evil person for a while. Nothing irreparable happened, thankfully, because her brothers had realized what was happening and the diary by which she'd been under control, had been destroyed. As she had hoped, and dreaded, he asked the question that would lead to the other talk she wanted to have.

**So is this evil person gone? What happened to him?**

Silently praying to the heavens for the right words, she answered his questions.

**That evil wizard was Voldemort and he was gone for a while. He tried to kill a certain family but something happened** **and it backfired. Nobody knows for sure what exactly happened but we know the parents were killed. When Voldemort tried to kill the little boy, that's when it backfired and Voldemort was reduced to almost nothing while the boy survived. Nobody has ever survived a Killing Curse so this boy is quite famous in our world.**

Apprehensively, Ginny waited while Harry read her lengthy explanation. She waited for the explosion that was surely to come. When Harry reached for the quill she wordlessly handed it over.

Harry read Ginny's answers and something seemed to click inside. His nightmares often involved screaming, a woman, a strange man and green light. He didn't know what to think or how to feel. He wanted to be sure his suspicions were correct.

**This Killing Curse, it's green isn't it.**

Ginny couldn't read anything in Harry's face. She had no idea how he was about to react but told him the truth, nevertheless.

**Yes, it is. How did you know?**

**Because I've seen it in my dreams. I can hear someone talking, a woman. A strange looking man is there too. He sends this green light from a stick...a wand and tried to do it to me. I'm the one you're talking about, aren't I.**

Amazed at how well he was currently taking the news, Ginny nodded in answer. She only watched as Harry dropped the parchment and walked a short distance away, hands in his hair. Ginny understood the need to think so she waited for him to come back when he was ready. In the meantime, she watched little minnows dart about in the stream then smiled at the playfully jumping squirrels in the trees. Harry returned several minutes later and picked up the parchment.

**The woman in my dream is my mother, isn't she.**

Again, it was more statement than question and Ginny nodded.

**The strange looking man was Voldemort?**

Ginny nodded again.

**She begged him to leave me alone. He gave her the chance to live but she wouldn't stop trying to protect me.**

Tears ran down his cheeks as he realized the implications of his mother's actions. With shaking hand, he continued to write.

**She loved me, didn't she. She loved me but that man took her away.**

Tears streamed down Ginny's cheeks, too as she watched Harry realize what he'd lost. Taking the parchment back, she wrote in her own unsteady writing.

**Your mother and father loved you very much, Harry. Their names were Lily and James. Your middle name is James. They did everything they could to protect you but they were betrayed by someone.**

Harry's suspicion filled his reply.

**You sound as if you knew them...us.**

Ginny inhaled deeply, trying to calm her nerves, not knowing how he would take this next little tidbit. She told him of the secret Order of the Phoenix and how her parents and his had both been a part of it. They had been friends but then Harry's parents went into hiding.

**Why? Why did he attack us? Why did we have to hide?**

Ginny shook her head.

**He went after anyone who defied him. I don't know why your parents went into hiding. No one else did. I know there's a reason but I don't know what it is.**

Something Ginny had said earlier caught his attention.

**You said he was gone for a while. Does that mean he's back?**

This was another thing Ginny dreaded saying but knew she had to be completely honest.

**Yes, he is. And since you lived that night, he's likely looking for you.**

Harry jumped up and paced for several minutes. _How can this be? Can it be true? Surely she wouldn't lie, would she? It makes some sense. It sure explains that dream. It's not a dream but a memory. A memory of my Mum and that evil man. Now he's back and looking for me. It's too dangerous for me to be here with them. These people were nice to me. I can't repay them by bringing danger to them. I'm going to have to leave._ Mind made up, he sat down and wrote what he thought would be his final note to her.

**I'll be gone by noon. Thanks for all that your family has done for me.**

Confused, Ginny could only sit and stare at what he'd written. As soon as his intention became clear, though, she hastily wrote her next message, hoping he'd agree to what she suggested.

**What? You can't leave! You're safe here! Protections have been put up around the house**. **I don't want you to go. None of us do. We're in no more danger than we were. In fact, because of the protections in place, we're safer. Please, just stay long enough to talk to Dad. After that, if you decide to go, well, we won't stop you.**

Harry didn't want to go either. He felt torn between keeping them safe and selfishly wanting to spend more time with them, especially now that he knew they had been friends with his parents. They could tell him all about his parents._ It can't hurt to wait to talk to her dad, can it? It would give you a little more time with them._ Not sure he was doing the right thing, he answered.

**Okay.**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When they returned to the Burrow that morning, Molly was fussing about making lunch. She glanced at Ginny, eyebrow raised in question, then smiled at her daughter's nod. Harry now knew of his place in their world. She glanced at the boy in question, his eyes automatically scanning his surroundings for danger, and reflexively placing himself in a position to reach either door if the need arose. She turned her head away so as not to alarm him before clamping her jaw in anger._ No child should EVER go through what that poor boy has been through._ She glanced back and an idea came to her.

"Ginny, why don't we take Harry and go to Diagon Alley to get Harry some clothes of his own, after lunch? He'd probably enjoy it and he'd see magic being used. It could be good for him."

"I don't know, Mum. It can be pretty crowded but I'll ask."

After explaining what Diagon Alley was and asking if he'd like to go, she handed over the note. Harry hesitated in his answer. He had no money and was ashamed to admit it. From the looks of their home and clothes, he didn't think this family had much either. On the other hand, having clothes of his own would be nice. Pushing the too big glasses up his nose again, he finally wrote two words.

**No money.**

By this time, Molly had turned around, waiting for her answer.

"What did he say?"

"He's worried about not having any money."

"His parents left him money at Gringotts."

Ginny conveyed this bit of information and Molly witnessed the transformation of the boy's features from one of dejection to awe to happiness. She wouldn't have minded using Weasley money to get Harry things he needed but she had a feeling he wouldn't have been agreeable. She watched as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and wrote on the parchment. Another idea came to her.

"While we're there, we'll get him his own glasses. Those are obviously way too big and probably not what he really needs anyway."

Ginny related that to him and suddenly the joy seeped out of him. He hung his head, looking ashamed, and wouldn't meet their eyes. Molly wondered what it was that made him close up. She watched as he swallowed with difficulty and wrote another note before looking back up, still not meeting her eyes. Leaning down, Molly read what he had written.

**I took them from someone. Mine got broken. I left mine in their place.**

Moving so that she stood in front of Harry, she slowly reached out and gently took his chin in her hand, exerting the slightest bit of pressure to make him look at her. When his eyes finally found hers, she smiled before writing her own note.

**It's okay. Perfectly understandable.**

Confused, but relieved she wasn't upset with him, Harry nodded. He still couldn't understand how nice these people were being to him. He expected to wake up at any moment to find it was only a dream.

The rest of the time before lunch was spent talking about what Harry would likely see in Diagon Alley.

Harry wasn't too sure he was going to like this method of travel. He stood rigidly in the fireplace with Molly's arms around him, one hand full of glittery powder. He struggled to get his rapid heartbeat and ragged breathing under control, knowing she was waiting for the signal to say he was ready. He hated closed in spaces and, though this had a pretty big opening, it was still rather small. Finally, he nodded and immediately felt dizzy, like he was spinning. He didn't know for sure since his eyes were tightly shut.

Almost as quickly as it had started, it was over and Molly was stumbling with him out of the fireplace on the other end. Harry looked around to find a normal looking place. Upon closer inspection, he decided it wasn't quite so normal. Tea services floated around filling cups. Brooms swept floors all by themselves. Used dishes returned themselves to the kitchen to be washed while chairs lifted themselves and rested upside-down on the tables.

Feeling a tapping on his shoulder, Harry turned to Ginny smiling at him and motioning him to follow. Taking a final look around, he followed her through to the back, then out the door. A brick wall blocked their path. Confused, he looked for another way around but there wasn't any. The tapping returned and he watched as Ginny drew her wand and tapped certain bricks in the wall.

Harry felt his jaw drop when the bricks rolled in on themselves to reveal a bustling alleyway. Shops lined the sides, wall to wall. Colorful signs advertised wares. An occasional owl flew overhead with something attached to its leg. People hurried this way and that, some chatting, some concentrating on their activities.

As they walked along, Harry turned complete circles trying to take it all in, a look of childlike wonder on his face. Several times the Weasleys had to stop and backtrack because Harry had found something new and peculiar to stare at and he'd stop. One such time occurred as they passed an apothecary. Harry just couldn't believe what they were selling: animal parts, and plants. Wrinkling his nose at the thought of touching any of those animal parts, he moved on only to stop again in front of the Owl Emporium. His eyes as wide as any owls, he gaped at the range of animals in the shop. Plain ones, pretty ones. Small ones, large ones. Feisty ones, calm ones.

Another shop that caught Harry's interest was a shop full of unusual creatures. He actually had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. There was a large turtle-like creature with a colorfully jeweled shell. When flames suddenly shot out of its behind, Harry jumped back, eyes huge.

Giving that animal a wide berth, he went in search of other, less frightening, creatures. In one cage was what appeared to be an ordinary puppy, except for one thing. It's tail was forked. There was an animal Harry would have sworn was a cat, except it had a tail like a lion. Another creature, this time a lizard, kept shrinking and enlarging back to its original size.

Laughing at Harry's look of incredulity, the Weasleys dragged him out of the shop and made their way to Gringotts. They watched, amused, as he took in the giant white marble building. Every one of them wondered what Harry's reaction to Goblins would be. They didn't have long to wait.

As they went inside, Harry took one look at the bald, squat beings with needle-sharp teeth and put all the Weasleys between himself and the Goblins. Seeing the Goblin at the counter appeared offended, Molly sought to clear up the misunderstanding.

"He's Muggle-born. He doesn't mean to be rude."

The Goblin grunted in acknowledgment before holding out his hand.

"I have a letter here from Albus Dumbledore and the key to this boy's vault. We need to make a withdrawal."

The Goblin took both items before reading the letter. His beady eyes raked over Harry as he read. Upon finishing, he called for another Goblin to take them to Harry's vault. Molly wrote out a quick note to Harry asking if he wanted to see his vault. When Harry began looking around for it, she wrote that it was below the building.

Harry shook his head, in a near panic. He _wanted_ to, yeah, but the thought of going underground, with this giant building on top of him, was way more than he could take. It was bound to be dark, too. He watched Molly walk away, secretly hating himself for not being strong enough to go with her.

The Weasley kids all noticed the look of longing mixed with self-disgust on Harry's face. They decided to try to take his mind off things. They took Harry outside to the steps and the twins began jinxing Ron, causing hair to grow out his ears or his nose to get overlarge. Any goofy jinx the twins could come up with, they used. The reaction they got was not the one they had expected.

Harry watched with increasing anxiety as Ron's countenance changed or his legs became rubbery and he could no longer stand. The more anxious Harry looked, the more outrageous the jinxes became. When the twins' wands turned to Ginny, Harry responded by jumping in front of her, holding her behind him with one arm, completely unaware of crying out something that closely resembled 'NO'. His other arm swiped outward in an arc toward the twins, who were thrown backward several feet.

Ron ran over to check on his brothers, eyeing Harry a bit warily.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, fine," said George as he struggled to sit up.

"But did you get the name of the skrewt that blasted us?" Fred asked, jokingly.

As Ron was helping the twins to their feet, Ginny had her hands full trying to calm a completely unnerved Harry. His breathing was labored, his heart raced, he trembled all over and he was sweaty. His complexion was even more pale than usual as his wide jade green eyes followed every move her brothers made.

After forcing Harry onto one of the steps of the bank, Ginny dug out a quill and parchment and began to explain.

**Fred and George are jokesters. They love practical jokes. What they were doing wasn't hurting Ron and can easily be reversed. They would never intentionally hurt Ron or myself or anyone they cared about.**

Harry stared at her message a moment as shame once again took up residence inside him. His eyes began to water as the significance of what he'd done hit him. _That's it. Now, you've really done it. You could have hurt them. For what? They were fooling around, nothing more. Now they're going to tell you to go away. _He hung his head, eyes shut tight against the tears that wanted to fall. He absolutely refused to meet anyone's eyes, no matter how hard they tried.

A small crowd had gathered around them by the time Molly was done inside the bank. Shooing away the onlookers, she turned to the kids and took in the scene before her. Fred and George looked a bit rumpled, Ron seemed a bit uncomfortable, Ginny was highly upset, and then there was Harry. The boy sat on the step, shoulders slumped in defeat, head hung, not meeting anyone's gaze. She immediately knew something happened with Harry.

"What happened?"

"He was a bit upset about not going with you so Fred and I tried to cheer him up."

"We cast some funny jinxes at Ron, hoping to take his mind off things."

"But instead, it seemed to make him more anxious. So then we--"

George took up the explanation. "--started to do Ginny, but it was the wrong thing to do."

"Yeah, set Harry off good," Ron added.

Ginny took things from there. "He jumped in front of me, trying to protect me or something. Then he used his magic and threw Fred and George backward a little. I've since explained that they weren't trying to hurt me or Ron, that they wouldn't hurt anyone they cared about. Now, he won't look at us."

_Oh, dear. Now what? There's a story there somewhere, I'm sure of it. It may even have something to do with his reaction at going down to see his vault. Well, he needs his own things so maybe we can still salvage this outing._

"All right. Fred, George, what were you thinking? You're not of age yet. You'll be lucky if there aren't any owls waiting at home. Harry hasn't been around magic much and distrusts it. How do you think it appeared to him? You three," she pointed at the boys, "had better start using the brain you were born with and think before you act. Now, this is what we're going to do. We are going to get Harry what he needs and we're going to act normally until he's ready to talk about it."

Ginny stood up and held out her hand under Harry's nose and waited. A few minutes went by before he noticed her hand, outstretched and waiting for his. The friendly gesture unraveled him. Tears poured down his cheeks. He couldn't believe, after what he'd just done to her brothers, that she still wanted to be friends with him. Seeing her hand out in friendship like that filled him with overwhelming relief and that started the tears falling. Once they started, he couldn't stop them. He continued to sit on the step and cried until he couldn't cry anymore.

When all he had were sniffles left, he realized his head was resting on the shoulder of the elder Weasley, her arms comfortably wrapped around him. He felt the love and comfort pour out her heart and find its way into his. This was exactly what he'd always wanted. Someone who could care about him, unconditionally. Slowly, Harry brought his arms around the woman and hugged her tightly for a brief moment before letting go.

Molly, herself, had tear tracks on her face. Who could have helped it with the abject misery that had poured out of Harry. When she felt the brief tightening around her waist, she wanted to jump for joy. Letting her own arms drop, she smiled at him, gave him a quick kiss on the head and moved away.

Harry took the parchment and quill and, pushing his glasses back up his nose, wrote.

**So where to first?**

Not one Weasley misunderstood that he wasn't ready to talk about what had happened, and they were okay with it. Molly suggested getting Harry his own glasses first and off they went to The Magical Eye.

Inside, there were as many styles of glasses as there were Muggle clothes. Ginny relayed every request or statement the wizard behind the counter made in order for Harry to stay informed and to make his own choices. He removed the pair he wore and watched blearily as the man approached with a special wand, lit at the end. Ginny had told him the wizard was going to cast a charm that would check his eyes so they'd know how strong his glasses really needed to be. He felt Ginny's hand slip into his and it created a warmth inside that helped ease the nerves.

Before he knew it, the test was over. It hadn't even hurt! He replaced the too big pair back on his nose so he could select a style and color of frames to try on. After several attempts, he picked up a pair of black frames with round lenses and tried them. Instantly, he knew those were the ones. By the smiles on the others' faces, Harry knew he was right. Handing them over to the wizard, he put on the stolen pair and watched as the man tapped the frames three times, slowly.

Amazed when the man handed them right back to him, Harry put on his new glasses and smiled hugely. The other glasses had distorted things but at least he could see. With this new pair, everything seemed normal. He could turn his head without feeling a bit dizzy, unlike with the old pair. Harry watched as Molly opened a money bag and handed over the correct amount of money.

Seeing his interest, Molly handed the bag over to him and watched as he slipped his hand inside and brought it back out, full of coins. It was like watching a three year old discover money for the first time and it saddened her momentarily. Everything they took for granted, Harry was just now experiencing. These were things he should have been able to do with his real parents. Molly shook herself out of her reverie and headed out the door.

Their next stop was Muggle Mania, a clothing store that, as the name suggested, carried only Muggle clothing. Harry was given several pairs of shorts to try on and several t-shirts to try on, as well. Swimming trunks came next. He blushed a bit when a store worker came along with a few packages of boxers. She pulled a blue pair out of the package, held them up to his waist to check the fit. Nodding, she replaced the pair and handed the packages over to Molly. They added socks to the growing pile before finding him a pair of trainers and a special kind of shoe one wears in water. Harry walked out of the store wearing a set of new clothes and feeling...happy.

They ended their trip with a visit to Florean's Ice Cream Parlour. Harry's eyes widened for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. He'd never seen so many different treats before, having rarely been offered any. He finally settled on a basic chocolate ice cream cone while the others chose more exotic flavors.

Just as Ron was about to lick his ice cream, someone accidentally bumped him from behind, causing Ron to get a face full of his cold treat. When he pulled away, Ron had ice cream all over his nose, IN his nose and up one cheek.

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed It was silent laughter but laughter all the same. The others followed suit and spent several long minutes, just laughing. Even Ron laughed. He couldn't find it in him to get upset at Harry, not after everything else that had happened that day.

As he got control of himself, Harry waved his hand in a small sweeping gesture and the ice cream disappeared from Ron's face. He went back to concentrating on his own melting treat, not seeing the grins between mother and daughter or the envious looks of the boys at Harry's ability to do wandless magic.

Harry's use of magic had Ginny and Molly grinning. Ginny turned to her mum and received a wink in response. Their plan to get Harry to accept magic as natural, as normal, was working.

That evening, Ginny waited for Harry to bring up the subject of talking to her father about their protection. When he finally did, the three of them walked outside to the chicken coop to talk, even if it was a bit awkward. Harry asked all the questions he could possibly think to ask and received honest, if not blunt, answers. Satisfied with the answers he received, Harry hesitantly put out a hand and, just as slowly, Arthur shook it.

After the little 'breakthrough' at Gringotts, Harry flinched less when touched. He didn't seek out contact yet, but everyone figured it was only a matter of time. One morning, at breakfast, a tawny owl flew in through the window and landed in front of Ginny, something attached to its leg. Harry jumped back away from the table, afraid the bird had gone barmy. He warily watched the owl as Ginny calmly untied the note from its leg then sent it off with a piece of bacon.

**It's Owl Post, Harry**, Ginny wrote to him. **That's how we get and send our mail. Post owls are extremely smart and always find the person they seek.**

**You use owls so you're not found out, don't you?** came Harry's response.

**Exactly**.** This is a note from a friend of mine, Hermione. She's a year older than me but we're close friends. We met at school.** **I need to send her a response so she won't wonder if something happened.**

Harry felt his face heat. She really _had_ been spending a lot of time with him. _Who else has she __neglected because of me? She's probably got a boyfriend she hasn't written to because she's been too busy dealing with me. Well, that can change. I'm used to doing things on my own, after all._

**That's fine. You don't have to spend all your time with me. I can entertain myself. Trust me, I've been doing it for years.**

Harry started to get up from the table but Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his chair.

**I didn't mean to sound like I was complaining because I'm not. I don't mind spending time with you at all.**

Harry smiled. **But you do spend a lot of time with me and it's not necessary. You have other friends to keep in contact with. I understand. Really. It's okay.**

Ginny studied Harry a moment, looking for anything other than sincerity. Finding none, she nodded but wrote a final message before heading up to her room.

**I'm going to go write Hermione and then I'm taking you out on your first broom ride so meet me back here in an hour.**

Up in her room, Ginny took out a piece of parchment and began her letter.

**Dear Hermione,**

**You are not going to BELIEVE what has been going on around here. Do you remember the story of the Potters, the family that stopped Voldemort for a while? What am I thinking? Of course you do. Anyway, Harry had completely disappeared. Well, guess what? He's back and he's staying here with us. He hasn't had it good, no where near it. He's deaf, for one. When he came to us, he couldn't read, either. Dumbledore had to implant that knowledge into his mind. He didn't trust anyone. Had never known of our world since that night. I have no idea how long he's been without a family before he came to us. Harry's practically skin and bones though I can see a bit of improvement now that he's getting regular meals. He's slowly learning to trust us and he knows of his place in the magical world. HE CAN DO WANDLESS MAGIC! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? And he's quite powerful, too. If I'm totally honest, when he genuinely smiles, which isn't often, but when he does, he's kind of cute. He's got the most gorgeous green eyes you ever saw. His black hair is kind of messy but it looks good on him. Maybe you can come over sometime. He needs all the friends he can get. I don't know if he'll be going to Hogwarts and if he doesn't, I'm not sure I'll want to. He trusts me more than anyone, for some reason, and I don't want to abandon him. Anyway, I probably shouldn't have said anything at all so you have to keep quiet about this. I just had to tell someone. Hope to see you soon.**

**Ginny**

Ginny folded the letter, went downstairs to send it off and then went in search of Harry. She found him lying in some grass, in the sun, beside the stream. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful. His legs were outstretched and crossed at the ankles. His arms were folded up underneath his head, cushioning it from the ground. His chest rose and fell rhythmically making Ginny think he was sleeping. He'd removed his glasses and placed them on the ground beside him.

_Okay, now what? Do I wake him up or let him sleep? And if I wake him up, how do I do it? I don't want to scare him._

He took the decision from her by rubbing his eyes and shielding them to look at her. When she motioned for him to follow, he plopped his glasses back onto his nose and stood. He followed her back towards the house where there was a small shed. Holding the door open, his gaze flitted around the interior and he found himself somewhat amused at all the ordinary things there. Ginny picked up two brooms propped against one wall.

Ginny saw the uncertainty on Harry's face and decided maybe a joint ride first was in order. She lay down one of the brooms and mounted the other, sliding a little further up to make room for Harry. She then pointed to Harry, made a 'come on' motion and pointed behind her, smiling reassuringly all the while. When he finally mounted the broom, she had to pull him closer so they were touching and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Ginny looked up into Harry's face, knowing full well he was uncomfortable with all the touching.

Harry was a bit surprised when Ginny pulled him closer to her. When she wrapped his arms around her, he felt funny. Not overly uncomfortable, just odd. He could smell her hair and it smelled really nice. Noticing her questioning look, he gulped, took a breath, and nodded. He was ready.

Ginny kicked off as gently as she could and slowly rose to about the height of her bedroom window. Feeling Harry's arms tighten around her, she looked over her shoulder. His eyes were darting everywhere, from below them to the inside of her room, to above them. He smiled that smile she liked and she sent them moving forward at a leisurely pace. They spent some time doing a few laps around the clearing often used for impromptu Quidditch games and she felt the tension in Harry relax.

When they had left the ground, Harry immediately understood why Ginny wanted him closer and to hold on. He could have fallen. _I can't believe it! We're actually flying! This isn't too bad. As a matter of fact, it's kind of fun._ _Oh, I can see inside Ginny's room! Wow, this is wicked!_ The gentle wind in his face was somehow freeing. On impulse, he let go of Ginny and held his arms out, letting the air rush over them. He closed his eyes and concentrated on feeling the air around them.

Feeling Harry let go, Ginny glanced back at him, thinking he was ready to land. What she saw instead made her heart soar. To her dying day, she would never forget the look of utter freedom on his face. Head held at a slightly upward angle, eyes closed, a smile so radiant it was blinding. He looked so carefree sitting there with his hair blowing in the breeze, arms out, as if he hadn't a thing in the world to worry about, that it made her eyes water a bit. She was so glad she was able to give him that.

They flew together until lunch time, going increasingly higher and faster, adding hills and valleys to their flight pattern. When they returned to the backyard, Molly and another man, a dark-haired man in his late thirties, stood just outside the door.

Molly noticed the added sparkle in Harry's eyes dim. She watched as the glorious smile that had graced his face faded to nothing. The caution was back in the way he carried himself and for that she would always be sorry. She hadn't expected this man's visit, indeed, had thought Albus would have passed along her instructions.

"Oh, Merlin, you're right. He really does look just like James but with Lily's eyes."

The stranger wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to gain control of his emotions. Molly had told him what to expect as far as Harry's behavior and what not to do. Despite that, he wanted nothing more than to rush over and take the boy into his arms and never let him go again. His eyes raked the teen from head to foot, jaw clenching at the few scars visible on the teen's legs. The man watched as Harry shadowed Ginny all the way to the shed and back, those green eyes never leaving his own black ones for long.

Molly pushed him into the kitchen before following behind him and allowed the kids to follow her. Everyone sat at the table, two sets of writing utensils in place. Molly handed over a set of materials to Ginny.

"Explain to Harry who this is. Tell Harry we didn't do this intentionally. He may take it better from you."

So Ginny, feeling the tension rolling off Harry, wrote.

**Please understand, none of us knew he was coming or we would have told you first. This man was best friends with your parents. His name is Sirius. He's your godfather, Harry.**


	6. Chapter 5

Harry studied the Weasley's faces for sincerity and found it. They honestly hadn't known this man was coming. He had no clue what a godfather was but by the worried expressions he saw, he knew it wasn't something he'd like. After asking Ginny to explain exactly what a godfather was, and getting her answer, he shoved his chair back and stalked out the back door. He was sorely tempted to run, and keep running, but he was strong enough to admit he was tired of running. So instead, he sat under a big shade tree.

_Why? Why now? Where has he been all this time? He doesn't care about me. He can't or he'd have been there from the beginning. Or is it now that I'm older, he wants me. Let someone else do all the raising and then he can swoop in and take over. I went through HELL because he didn't want me and now he thinks I'll just be so relieved that I'll accept him? He can think again._

A tiny niggling voice insisted on being heard. _But what if there was a reason he couldn't be with you before? A very good reason. Don't you want to know? This man was close friends with your parents. Who better to learn about them than from this man?  
_

Harry sat under that tree for a bit debating on what he should do. He was very thankful the Weasleys had not followed him out there.

"I told you, you shouldn't have come," Molly was telling Sirius. "He's in a delicate place right now. We just recently got him to open up with us a little."

"I'm really sorry, Molly, but I just couldn't stay away any longer."

Ginny watched Harry stalk out to the shade tree she often read under. "He didn't go far. Just under the big oak tree." She turned back to Sirius. "You'll just have to wait and see if he comes back in. If he does, he'll want honest answers but he'll likely be cautious."

"And if he doesn't?"

"It means he's not ready. Too much too fast."

Sirius eyed Ginny a minute before grinning. "You seem to have become an expert on Harry in a short amount of time."

Ginny shrugged, refusing to rise to the bait. "He trusts me more than anyone else for some reason. It may have something to do with the Diary and all that."

Molly's gaze flicked to her daughter. "You told him of that?"

"Yeah, back when I explained about Voldemort."

"That's why he trusts you, I'd guess," Sirius commented. "He may see you as some sort of kindred spirit. Both of you having gone through some life-changing events, even if yours wasn't as bad or long-lasting as his."

Molly turned back to Sirius, an eyebrow raised, not having expected the insight from him. Sirius was known as another Fred and George.

"What?" he asked in response to Molly's look. "I know when to joke and when to be serious, no pun intended."

"Well, anyway, it's all up to Harry now," Ginny said softly, gazing out the back door.

An hour later, the back door opened and an extremely cautious Harry entered. Glancing only briefly at the stranger, Harry kept his eyes on Ginny, who patted the chair he had vacated. Once he'd seated himself, she pushed parchment and quill closer to him.

Taking them, he paused to try to get his thoughts in order but when he began writing they came out fast and furiously.

_**Why are you here? Why now? Where have you been? If you were supposed to look after me when my parents died, why didn't you? You said you were a friend, so where were you when they were killed? Because you weren't there when I needed you...**_

Harry couldn't finish that last thought. In disgust, he shoved the message in the general direction of his so-called godfather. He watched as the man read the note, expecting some kind of reaction, any kind. What he got was a calmly written reply.

**First of all, I'm here to see you, to get to know you, hopefully. I would have come sooner but Molly thought it best everyone stayed away until you were ready. I couldn't wait any longer and I'm sorry to upset you. I couldn't look after you when James and Lily died because I was accused of selling them out to Voldemort and was sent to prison for twelve years. In reality, I was captured and someone attacked my mind and found the information they needed. I did **_**not**_** give it willingly. I couldn't visit you once you all went into hiding and I had no idea when the attack was taking place. I wanted to warn your parents but by the time I escaped capture, it was too late. They were dead and you had disappeared**.

Harry read and reread the statement. _Can I believe this man? I don't know him. Ginny seems to trust him. Is that enough? Who really knows what happened?_ He took some parchment and wrote his next question.

**How do I know you're telling the truth? You could have made it all up for all I know. What do you mean by attacking your mind?**

Sirius explained about the Fidelius Charm and how he'd been the Secret-Keeper. He also explained the workings of Legilimency and who had used it against him. His proof was his memory, which he readily offered for viewing.

When Harry read about how Legilimency worked, he went rigid. Thoughts of the man who had chased him here and what he had done, how he had given Harry the ability to read, chased themselves inside his head. _Is that what that old man had done? Legilimency? Had the man seen my memories?_

Harry felt a light tap on his arm and noticed another message had been written, this time in Ginny's neat writing.

I** know what you're thinking. Dumbledore used a form of Legilimency to give you knowledge but it's not the same thing. When you're attacked like Sirius described, you can see your memories flash in your mind's eye. Did this happen to you?**

No, he didn't recall that happening. Harry sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the table, trying to relax enough to look at his supposed godfather.

The others at the table released their own sigh at the obvious sign of Harry's, at least temporary, acceptance of Sirius. Sirius was beside himself with joy. He reached out to place his hand on Harry's head only to have it smacked away by Ginny. The look she gave him clearly said 'Don't push your luck.'

Ginny gave Harry all the time he needed to think and was rewarded with a tremulous smile when he raised his head. She returned his with a 'you're welcome' smile of her own.

Harry turned back to the problem at hand. He took the parchment and quill and began to write.

**Okay, say I go along with this for now. What then? What do you want from me? What should I expect?**

Sirius took up the parchment and gave his reply.

**Whenever you're ready I'd like to spend some time with you. If you're not comfortable being alone with me, Ginny or whoever can be present. I just want to get to know my best friend's son. You look a lot like him but you were gifted with Lily's eyes.**

Sirius passed over his note and removed a photograph from one of his pockets. He ran a finger over two of the people in the photograph before handing it to Harry.

Harry accepted the photo and looked down. What he saw made his eyes widen and water. In the picture, three people stood, arms around each other, smiling happily at the camera. Lily stood on the left the white dress she wore offsetting her deep red hair. James stood in the middle in a black suit. One arm was draped along Lily's shoulders, the other around another man, the one who sat before him now.

Harry's thumb caressed the first two people. _Wow, I really do look like my dad. And Mum's eyes are the same as mine. She was so beautiful._ As he watched, his dad turned to his mum and kissed her on the head. The love between the pair was nearly palpable. Harry looked up to his godfather to try and show how grateful he was for the photo, only to find Sirius had another photo.

In this one, Sirius was holding a black-haired baby that appeared to be about four months old. Sirius was holding him in a sitting position and with his own hand, moved the baby's hand in a waving motion at the camera. According to the note Sirius wrote, this was taken mere months before the three had gone into hiding.

The last photo Sirius gave Harry showed an eight month old baby flying on a toy broomstick, barely off the ground. The wrapping paper remnants told Harry the photo had been taken at Christmas.The baby in the photo wore a huge grin and 'zoomed' back and forth out of the picture with someone's legs chasing him. Harry couldn't contain the smile that broke out. _I liked flying even then. _Glancing at the next note, Harry's smile grew wider. _Sirius gave me that broom and that's Dad trying to catch me._

Though Harry was still on the alert and could leave at the slightest hint of danger, he sat at the Weasley table and traded questions and answers for most of the afternoon.During the course of the visit, Harry found their was another friend of his parents who wanted to visit with him whenever he was ready. When Sirius had told him this friend was a werewolf, he immediately thought he was being lied to and tried to walk away.

Reading the situation correctly, Sirius called upon Ginny to verify what he'd said. After that single little hitch, the visit went well for the both of them. Sirius stayed for supper before Flooing home.

Midmorning the next day, a package was delivered to Harry by a beautiful snowy white owl. He, Ron, and Ginny were stuck inside playing with dominoes. Arthur had seen the game being played at King's Cross once and, lover of all things Muggle, had gotten a set. The three had long since given up playing the actual game and were setting them on their ends in intricate patterns to knock over. The arrival of the owl prematurely precipitated the falling of the dominoes but no one was paying any attention to them.

The owl waited patiently for Harry to untie the package from its leg. Harry, shocked to be getting anything, much less by owl, sat and stared at the bird. Finally noticing the nudges from Ginny, shaky fingers reached out to remove the package, Harry's eyes darting between the bird's beak and its leg. Once it had been removed, the owl surprised them by flying to the back of the couch and stayed there.

More encouragement from Ginny convinced Harry to open it. Inside the box was a tablet of parchment and a note.

**Dear Harry,**

**I'd like to make up for all the birthdays and Christmases I missed. Please accept these gifts, no strings attached. Okay, first of all, the parchment. This parchment has been enchanted to speak. Whenever you write a note to someone, just tap the folded note the appropriate number of times and it will speak the name of the recipient for the owl. See enclosed list, which can, of course, be added to. Now, for the second half of this present. You may have noticed the owl hasn't disappeared. That's because she now belongs to you. Her name is Hedwig. She's a snowy owl and highly intelligent, very patient, and affectionate. I would like to keep in touch with you, if you're willing. Think it over.**

**Your Godfather,**

**Sirius**

To say Harry was stunned would be putting it mildly. He had his own clothes, his own glasses, own money and now, he had a pet. A living, breathing thing that was his and his alone. Slowly, he approached the owl and held out an arm. The owl effortlessly relocated to Harry's arm. He couldn't believe how heavy she was but, then again, she wasn't a small owl, either. Looking into his owl's golden yellow eyes, he could see the wisdom owls were known for. It didn't matter that he couldn't hear her or speak to her. Emotion swelled up and would have overcome him if not for his skill at suppressing them.

With his free hand, she stroked the black-spotted feathers on her front and was rewarded with a gentle nip. He smiled at the gesture and was given, what he could have sworn was, a wink. By this time, he'd completely forgotten the others in the room, therefore, was startled to see a box of owl treats materialize before him. He looked up to find Ginny holding out the box, smiling. He took one of the little treats and held it out for Hedwig, who munched it down, nipped Harry affectionately again before heading out to hunt.

After gathering ink and quill, Harry sat down to respond to Sirius. Ron and Ginny left him to his thoughts and joined their mother in the kitchen. Ron snagged an apple from the table and bit into it as he sat. Ginny sat at the table and watched her mum knead dough for bread. She thought it odd her mum hadn't investigated the delivery.

"You knew, didn't you?" she asked shrewdly.

"What's that, dear?"

"You knew. You knew Sirius was giving Harry an owl."

"Yes, I did. He mentioned it while he and I were talking. I told him if things went okay between them, then perhaps he could get an owl. I hadn't expected one quite so nice, though."

"They fit, though," Ron said around a mouthful of apple.

Ginny nodded. "You should have seen them together. They just seemed right. Like Harry was meant to have a white owl and she really seemed to understand Harry's silence."

Molly smiled. "Owls are intelligent creatures. I'm sure Sirius saw something in her that would be beneficial to Harry." She turned to look at her two youngest children. "Harry's doing remarkably well, thanks to the two of you."

Both teens blushed but Ron said, "It's more Ginny's doing than mine. He's around her more than anyone."

Just then, a tawny owl entered the kitchen and alighted in front of Ginny. Removing the message, she recognized the handwriting immediately.

"Oh, it's from Hermione."

Ginny jumped up and headed for her room to read the letter in private. She was anxious to read her friend's response regarding Harry. Reaching her room, she closed the door and lay down on the bed.

**Dear Ginny,**

**Well, I must say you're having a much more exciting holiday than I am. So the famous Harry Potter is back. That's really great but sad to hear about his 'problem'. Has he 'talked' about his past, yet? He should. Perhaps you can help with that. As for his wandless magic, it makes sense. After all, we've all done accidental magic so it stands to reason, if a person never got a wand, they'd be able to focus enough to do magic anyway. So, you think he's cute, do you? From what you've described, he sounds like he looks like his dad but inherited his eye color from his mum. I've seen pictures of Lily and James and, I suppose I could see a bit of an attraction. Longish hair and bright green eyes. I hope I can meet him soon.**

**Your friend,**

**Hermione**

Ginny laughed out loud. It figured Hermione would be so...clinical...in her assessment of Harry. Perhaps she could have her friend over for a few days. It would be good to see Hermione again and she knew it would be good for Harry to have a friend outside of family, especially if he went to Hogwarts anytime soon. She decided to go ask her regarding Hermione. The other thought, she shoved back to the recesses of her mind where it had once been.

Harry was completely nervous. Mr. Weasley had approached him a few days ago about bringing someone to see him, someone who could teach him a way to use his hands to talk. At the time, he'd been excited at the prospect of not having to drag parchment and quills around all the time but now that the time had finally come, he found himself dreading the change. Ginny kept telling him change was good, and in this instance, he knew it to be true but he couldn't help feeling he was going to go barmy.

The Floo flared and Arthur appeared with a lady about the same age as the elder Weasleys. She had chocolate brown hair and startling gray eyes. When those eyes settled on Harry, she smiled warmly and sincerely. Something about her put Harry at ease and he smiled back. Since he was living with the Weasleys, they agreed to learn the sign language along with Harry so the sitting room was packed with redheads. Molly, Arthur, Ginny, Ron and even the twins were present, scattered around the room. Ginny and Harry sat on the couch, while the teacher, Madame Grayson, sat across from them.

She began with the alphabet, handing out papers with pictorial demonstrations for each letter to everyone, but insisted on working directly with Harry and Ginny, and so wouldn't allow them to check the paper. Out of her pack, she removed a laminated card with the letter A on it. Next, she opened Harry's left hand, palm up at a slight angle. Taking Harry's right, she formed a fist with the index finger out and touched the finger to the tip of his left thumb. She went on when she was sure everyone had the positions correct. With each new letter, she pulled out the corresponding letter card.

Letter B was formed by holding the left hand, palm facing right and fingers extended but together, and the fingers of the right hand in a circle with the fingertips touching the palm of the left. Before moving on, she took out the A card to see if everyone remembered its designation. Card C was placed on the table. The hands were held in similar positions as in letter A but the right hand traced down the thumb and up the index finger of the left. Madame Grayson tested their memories each time by pulling out the previous cards.

Letter D was a bit different. Grayson fisted her left hand with index finger extended, pointing upward. The right hand was held in a fist with the index finger and thumb extended, curved, with the tips touching the left index finger, to form a D shape. Letter E was similar to letter A in how the hands were held but the index finger of the right hand touched the tip of the index finger of the left.

On through the entire alphabet they went, going over and over each letter until they became natural movements. She called a halt to the session and explained that she expected them to practice and use the letter signs as much as possible and that she would be back in a week to check their progress.

Supper that night was an unusually quiet affair at the Weasley house. Not a single Weasley could be seen without their alphabet sheet as they attempted to carry on conversations using what they had learned. Naturally, there was much confusion and frustration but some humor, too, as signs were mixed up and meanings skewed.

Often, Harry would abruptly stop eating and start finger spelling random objects, pride and joy radiating from his entire being. Ginny caught on and the two made game of it. One would spell a word and the other had to guess it by lifting it or pointing to it. After supper, the entire family became involved and passed the evening in semi-silence.

During the following week, Harry and Ginny spent most of their time together, using the finger spelling, which allowed them to put away their 'cheat sheets.' They became so quick, no one else could understand them. Needless to say, this afforded them the ability to crack on Ginny's brothers whenever necessary without worry of being 'overheard'.

Sirius returned for another visit and Harry spent the afternoon sharing what he'd learned. They had gotten through to E, when Harry asked if Sirius wanted to continue or stop. When his godfather chose to continue, Harry began letter F. Left hand palm out and held at a slight angle with fingers extended but touching. Right hand in a fist with the first two fingers extended and touching, rested, palm down, on the index finger of the left hand. For letter G, the left hand was held palm up, fingers extended but relaxed and the right hand formed a fist and rested, pinkie side down, in the left hand's palm.

Harry formed the letter H next for Sirius to copy. Left hand in the 'letter F position', right hand with four fingers extended and touching, palm side down, touched the left palm and slid to the right, along the fingers. For letter I, Harry held his hands in the 'letter A position' only he touched the tip of the middle finger instead. Letter J was similar. Hands held in the same fashion as I except the right index finger traced a path from the tip of the middle finger on the left hand downward, and up the thumb, forming a rough J shape.

Seeing Sirius was in information overload, Harry stopped there and they went back to writing to each other.

A few days later, Ginny woke up excited. Hermione was coming to spend a couple nights with them. She had explained this to Harry and he seemed okay with the idea but watching him now, she began to wonder. Getting his attention, she hesitantly began what she wanted to say.

**Harry, you do know that just because Hermione is here, it doesn't mean I don't want you around. You understand that, don't you?**

Harry's response was quick. **Of course. You're entitled to have your other friends over. This is your house, after all. I haven't done much with Ron lately. I can spend time with him.**

**But, Harry**,Ginny continued, desperate to make him understand, **I want Hermione to be your friend, too and she can't be if you're not around. And this is your house, too. You're practically family, now.**

The root of Harry's anxiety came to the forefront. **What if she doesn't like me? I don't want you to have to choose between us. I'll leave before that happens.**

Harry, she's going to love you. How could she not? You're honest, intelligent, witty and you light up when you smile

The praise caused them both to blush. Harry, because he still wasn't used to anything positive coming from anyone and Ginny, because she thought she'd sounded like a young girl with a crush. She took his hand and dragged him downstairs to meet her friend.

Minutes later, the fireplace lit up and Hermione stepped out of the green flames. She hugged Mrs. Weasley in greeting and thanked her for allowing the sleep over. She greeted Ginny with another hug and a little squeal.

"Ginny, it's so good to see you again. Have you started your homework yet? I've nearly finished mine."

"It's great to see you, too. And no, I haven't started it yet," Ginny rolled her eyes at that. "When have you ever known me to start it this early?"

Hermione didn't answer for she caught sight of someone lurking behind Ginny, looking quite uneasy. She took in the short, lanky frame, the black hair that was every bit as messy as Ginny described. His glance landed on her and she couldn't help the little gasp. _Those vibrant eyes are definitely his best feature. Pictures just don't do them justice. Wow. I never would have guessed from Ginny's description that looked this nice._ Hermione came back from her thoughts when she noticed the flurry of finger motions. _Oh, wow, sign language! I hope Ginny teaches me._

"Ginny, how do you say hello? I want to tell him my name."

It was slow going but Hermione finally got out her greeting. When she looked up from her hands, her eyebrows raised. He was smiling but it was more of a teasing smile; then he made a noise, like a snicker. Another flurry of motion passed between Harry and Ginny.

"What? What did he say?"

"He said for someone who's supposed to be quick to pick up things, you were kind of slow. Harry has a dry sense of humor."

"I've noticed," Hermione said with a typical eye roll and smile.

It wasn't the only thing she'd noticed, though. _Ginny's right. With that smile, he's very easy on the eyes. I can see what she means by the smile lighting him up, too. Those eyes of his glow when he smiles. Too bad short, lanky, messy haired blokes aren't my type. It would have been interesting to go up against Ginny._

They spent part of the morning teaching Hermione the alphabet and then, when it was too hot to stay inside, they went out to splash around in the creek. They went to a spot where a five foot waterfall fell into a deep pool. Ginny wore a dark blue one piece swimsuit, Hermione wore a black one piece, and Harry wore his blue trunks with a t-shirt, not comfortable showing the worst of his scars and his glasses.

Unfortunately, his shirt kept getting in his way by floating up and hindering his arms. It took some convincing on Ginny's part, but she finally convinced him to just take it off. He half threw and half levitated it to the bank. He'd had to turn his back to the girls to get his shirt to the grass and it was with a bit of dread that he turned back to face them, expecting a horrific expression on the face of Ginny's friend. Instead it was more a look of envy. That confused him. He watched as she said something to Ginny.

Noting his look, Ginny explained. **She's envious at your ability to do magic without a wand.**

It was that moment when Harry thought he'd found another friend. She hadn't stared at him like he was a freak. She didn't look sick at the sight of him. She had no problem holding his gaze without it seeming forced. It was almost as if she hadn't seen them although he knew she had. Grateful for her non-reaction, he relaxed and began a splash war.

That afternoon, Harry learned to play wizard chess from Ron. Instead of speaking the locations he wanted his pieces to go to, Harry would touch them then touch their destination square. A few times, Harry found it beneficial not to have his hearing. His pieces had a habit of turning to him and shouting, gesticulating wildly. Not being a stranger to having to think several moves ahead, Harry caught on quickly and actually beat Ron once.

That night, the issue of Harry sleeping in Ginny's room became an issue.

**Harry, **Molly started**, would you be okay in Ron's room? **She hated asking but she'd always been a bit uneasy with them sharing a room. _Surely by now he realizes he's safe. I hope this doesn't set him back._

Not wanting to upset Molly, he agreed to the arrangements, although as soon as she asked the question, he felt the old fears rushing back. It had been a while since he'd felt the need to be near a viable exit and to feel it now bothered him. Keeping a smile on his face, he bade them good night and climbed the stairs to Ron's room. Another camp bed had been set up against the wall opposite Ron's bed. Anxiously, he donned his pajamas, an old pair of Ron's shorts and a t-shirt, and lay down, back against the wall and waited for sleep to claim him. After hours of tossing and turning, he finally drifted off.

_Harry was_ _dreaming, and he knew he was, but he couldn't wake up. He saw his three year old self feeding the chickens. Harry knew what was about to happen and closed his eyes but he could still see it. Little Harry fell and spilled the bucket of chicken feed. He attempted to spread it around like he'd been shown but it was too late. The chickens descended on the feed, pecking his hands in the process._

_His father had heard the commotion of the chickens pecking at each other, and came to investigate. His face turned purple with rage and turned on the boy. The man picked a long swishy switch from the bush just to his right and roughly grabbed the child's shoulder, turning him to face outward. Pulling up the shirt, the man drunkenly lashed the toddler five times. The child received no supper after that._

_Another time, with another family, when Harry was about four years old, he had magically repaired a harness for their horse. Instead of the praise he'd expected, he received a lashing with a belt That type of thing occurred several times before Harry began to fight back using his ability, weak though it was._

_Now, Harry, age seven, was with a different family. This one had three kids and they loved practical jokes. When Harry came along, he became the recipient to them all. One time, before Harry had caught on to the fact the kids hated him, the youngest boy hid him in an old refrigerator on their property. It was dark inside. He couldn't see his own hand and he began to get scared. The air began to get thick, making it difficult to breathe._

_After several long minutes, it was obvious no one was looking for him and he tried to push the door open but something blocked it. He pushed and pounded and pounded and pushed on the door to no avail. Beginning to panic, he wheezed, struggling for air, and feeling very tired. His hands pushed and clawed at the seam where the door met the rest of the refrigerator. Tears rolled down his cheeks at his miserable existence. Not for the first time, he wished he was dead. Suddenly, a voice in his head scolded him for that thought and he fought to stay alive. He felt a hum deep inside himself that grew steadily in size and rolled outward, pushing the door to the fridge open. A stranger stood there as if he had been about to reach for the door. Harry wouldn't let the man touch him but walked with him back to Harry's house. As they walked, Harry noticed the low level humming deep inside. Another thing he noticed completely mortified him and he knew he was in serious trouble. While in the blind panic, he'd wet himself quite thoroughly. There was absolutely no way to hide enough, as soon as he was delivered back home and the stranger left, his father took the belt to him for wetting himself like a baby. That earned him the most number of lashes ever. He tried to summon that humming energy but was just too weak. His so-called siblings looked on and laughed. Harry knew they had played that prank on him and he hated them, hated his life but he was alive and he knew, some day, he'd be free of them._

Harry woke, drenched in sweat. Quietly, he got up and headed down to the sitting room. He sat on the couch, trembling from his nightmares, and curled in on himself, waiting for the dawn. When he thought it was close to the time that Molly got up, he returned to Ron's room and slipped under the covers, feigning sleep. He wasn't going to let anyone know how much being away from Ginny had affected him. Yawning, he drifted off into a light slumber.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: **There's a lot of sign description in this chapter. If you're not that interested you can skim over it to find the next word learned and the rest of the story.

Chapter 6

Harry woke to the vibrations of someone moving around in the room. Ron was just getting up and around. Flashing the teen a smile, Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. They were gritty from lack of sleep and he felt a bit lethargic. After his quick shower, he felt somewhat better, until he looked in the mirror. His complexion was paler than usual and the skin under his eyes were red.

Upset that his past had affected him so, he slowly rubbed a hand down his face and concentrated on how he'd looked the day before. He felt the familiar tingle and hum he'd associated with magic and removed his hand. In the mirror, yesterday's appearance stared back at him. Satisfied his sleepless night had been hidden, he went in search of breakfast.

He found himself immediately glad he'd taken the time to conceal his appearance, for every eye turned to scrutinize him as soon as he entered the kitchen. He straightened his shoulders and plastered a smile on his face. He was used to acting normal. In fact, this was a cake walk. As soon as he sat, a plate of eggs and sausages was placed before him. Smiling his thanks, he dug in, totally unaware he hadn't fooled one particular person in the room.

Ginny noticed the moment Harry stepped into the kitchen. She saw his drooping shoulders, noticed the bright smile that didn't reach his dull eyes. Though he didn't look all that different from yesterday, Ginny was willing to bet everything she had that Harry hadn't had a good night. Guilt stabbed her heart. While she'd been talking and occasionally giggling with Hermione over silly things, Harry had been suffering. No one else seemed to notice and she didn't want to embarrass Harry so she let it go for now.

Ginny had convinced her mum to let them go into the Muggle village, Ottery St. Catchpole so she, Hermione, Harry, and Ron walked down the lane to the little village. Ginny kept a watchful eye on Harry, who trudged along, barely keeping up. Every time someone turned in his direction, he'd straighten up and smile and answer the question but as soon as their attention was diverted, the mask would slip.

Armed with a little money, Ginny suggested they stop at the little diner for drinks and a snack. They ordered one big plate of chips to be shared amongst the four of them and soft drinks. Knowing Harry had likely never had chips before, she excitedly awaited his reaction. If it was anything like his reaction to the Dr. Pepper she'd ordered for him, he'd rival Ron in how much he could eat.

A short time later, the order arrived. Harry had been lulled into a bit of a daze but the appetizing smell of the grease woke him up. The biggest plate Harry had ever seen was placed in the middle of the table. Heaped upon the plate was a small mountain of fried, salted, sticks of potato. Picking one up, he winced at the heat searing his fingers and promptly dropped it. After a few seconds he tried again and, this time, managed to drag it to his plate. Picking it up again, he bit into it.

The huge amount of salt and the little bit of grease blended to create a most extraordinary flavor. Harry closed his eyes and took his time savoring the novel combination. A delighted grin spread across his features and he opened his eyes, nodding his head to answer Ginny's unspoken question.

Ginny chuckled at Harry's obvious enjoyment. She poured a small amount of ketchup onto his plate and watched as he dipped and ate. His eyebrows shot up and he eagerly grabbed a few more chips and placed them on his plate before dunking one in the ketchup and eating it. Once the chips had been devoured, the quartet paid the bill and continued their exploration of the town.

As they wandered, Ginny noticed Harry becoming more and more pale. A hand came up and rubbed his stomach. Suddenly, Harry bolted around the side of a building, his other hand over his mouth. Ron and Hermione made to follow, but she stopped them.

"Go get him some water. He's going to be embarrassed enough without the three of us standing around him."

The two agreed and entered a nearby convenience store. Ginny slowly made her way to Harry.

He couldn't believe it. Harry stumbled away from where he'd just been sick and eased himself to the ground. He'd been having a good time then he had to go and ruin it by getting sick. He dreaded facing Ginny and the others. He wished he had some water; he was too weak at the moment to try using his magic to freshen his mouth. He looked up as a shadow fell over him.

**Sorry about--**

That was as far as he got before Ginny grabbed his trembling hands.

**No, I am. Your system just wasn't ready for something greasy like that, I guess. Hope you still want to try them later.**

The other two returned with a bottle of water, which Harry gratefully took.

**You okay?** Ron asked in his bumbling pattern of finger spelling.

Harry nodded. After a few minutes, he calmed back down and insisted they keep visiting the village. He may have been exhausted and weak but he was mortified too and so soldiered on. He hoped they could salvage some fun out of the trip. They visited a pet store and the girls gushed over the antics of the kittens and puppies.

Harry and Ron bypassed the fluffballs and went straight to the others. Harry couldn't understand how anyone would want to own a giant spider or snake but he thought the geckos were nice. Harry watched as a chameleon changed from green to brown and wondered if it really belonged at The Magical Menagerie.

Done there, the three turned to Harry, checking up on him. He nodded his head and they continued down the street. They came upon a music store and decided to enter. Fast-paced hard rock blared from unseen speakers when the door was opened. As soon as he stepped inside, Harry felt the vibrations of the beat through his shoes. Flattening his hands along the wall, he could follow the beat enough to tap it out. He shooed Ginny away with a smile and small wave of his hand.

Thirty minutes later, the three teens had their fill of the blasting music pounding their eardrums and left, Harry following behind. Their next stop was an arcade. Many machines had flashing lights. Some had a laser gun of a sort to shoot bad guys. In one corner of the building, pool tables, air hockey, and table tennis were grouped together. While the boys played pool, the girls played table tennis and then they switched.

Another hour later, they decided it was time to head back home. None of them noticed the bulletin board filled with flyers advertising this or that. One of the papers, however, wasn't selling anything, it was requesting. This paper wanted information on a missing teen. A teen with shaggy black hair and green eyes. A grainy photo dominated the center. No, none of the quartet had noticed but someone else had. That someone pulled out a cell phone and dialed the number on the flyer.

That night, Harry lay in his bed in Ron's room. His heart pounded and his mind brought forth the dreams he'd had the previous night, reminding him of what awaited him if he slept. Sleep proved unavoidable, however. Shortly after succumbing to his exhaustion, the nightmares began.

_There was that scary man, Voldemort, again. He watched his mum beg for her son's life. He laughed and she was hit with that Killing Curse. Voldemort stood over Harry and laughed.__  
Harry, now, was 14. After attempting to defend a small girl from a bully, Harry was whipped for interfering with others. That was the defining moment for him. He'd had enough. Harry could feel that old familiar humming within him and he called to it, directing it toward his father. It tossed the man several yards away and knocked him unconscious. Harry took long enough to check for life. Satisfied, he opened the man's wallet, took the cash and ran. From that moment on, he'd been running, buying food when he could, taking it when he couldn't. He ran and ran, all the while, Voldemort stood not far away sneering and laughing._

Harry was 12 and he'd just been beaten for having an obvious physical response to a photo of a pretty girl. Many times after that, he'd awaken to find wet spots on his sheets due to certain dreams he'd have. Some of the time he managed to hide them but when he got caught, he was belted. It was during those moments when he'd swear he saw Voldemort, laughing at him.

Gasping for breathe, Harry woke. Glancing out the window, he saw it was still the dead of night. Untangling himself from the sheets, he slipped out of the room and down to the sitting room. He resumed his lookout on the couch like the previous night.

Molly woke earlier than usual. She wasn't sure why but decided to get up and get a start on breakfast. She silently made her way down the stairs and glanced into the sitting room. She had to do a double take to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. Harry was huddled on the couch, his back in the corner, knees drawn up to his chest, arms locked around his legs. His chin rested on his knees and his eyes stared out the window, unblinking.

His mental state was quite obvious as she stood there a few moments, observing. Her heart hurt at what she had inadvertently subjected him to. _He had been doing so well. I thought he'd be okay with Ron. Oh no, did he do this before, too? It would explain why he seemed so sluggish yesterday. Oh, the poor boy. I hope he can forgive me._

Molly walked around the opposite end of the couch, startling Harry in the process. She could see he was embarrassed to have been caught. Gently, she took hold of Harry's chin and raised it so she could look into his eyes.

**So sorry, Harry. Can you forgive me for being the cause of your suffering?**

Harry stared into the eyes of the Weasley matriarch and found they were very similar to her daughter's. Warm, comforting, sincere. He smiled halfheartedly.

**Not your fault. Bad dreams.**

Molly squeezed his hands a moment.

**Whenever you're ready to talk about things, any one of us will listen. Just so you know.**

Harry tensed at her polite and indirect inquiry. He wasn't ready yet. He didn't know if he'd EVER be ready to discuss the things that had happened to him when he was younger. If he talked to anyone, it would be Ginny. She seemed to understand and she held no pity for him.

**Thanks. Not yet.**

Molly nodded her acceptance.

**Would you be more comfortable staying with Ginny at night?**

Harry studied the elder Weasley a moment. He knew how uneasy she was at the thought of he and Ginny sharing Ginny's room. For her to still offer that possibility, it said something about the woman sharing the couch with him. It spoke of her willingness to put others first. Harry was still reluctant to answer but felt she deserved one.

**Yes. But I'm not sure why.**

Molly smiled.

**Then that's where you'll be. I want you to be at ease here, more than anything else. Hungry?**

Molly headed for the kitchen, hiding her amusement at the look on Harry's face. Apparently he'd expected more of an argument from her regarding his sleeping arrangements. She knew how important feeling safe was. She'd lived through the first war, after all. _If staying with Ginny during the night, will give him that feeling of safety, then so be it. I'll just have to adjust._

Molly fixed a hearty breakfast, filled a plate for Harry and set it before him. Then she filled a glass of pumpkin juice and gave that to him. She kept her eye on him as he muddled through his plate. Weariness radiated off him. When she next checked on him, his head had drooped close to his plate, eyes closed. Waving her wand, she charmed the food to cook itself while she took care of Harry.

Half finished, he propped his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. His eyes were just drifting shut when he felt the fork being removed from his limp fingers. Harry blearily looked up into Molly's compassionate face. He allowed himself to be pulled from the table and led back to the couch. He wasn't sure what she had planned until she conjured a fluffy pillow. He dropped onto the couch and waited for her to stuff the pillow under his head. Sleep claimed him before he'd even completely settled in. He never felt the light blanket being tucked in around him, the removal of his glasses to the end table or the light kiss to his forehead.

Molly stood watch over Harry a few minutes, gazing down at the young man who had swiftly come to mean as much to her as one of her own sons. Only when she was certain no more dreams were in store for him, did she return to the task of preparing breakfast.

"Hey, let's set up some dominoes in a fantastic design and then knock them over."

Ginny and Hermione had come down for breakfast a few hours after Harry had been tucked in. Upon hearing that suggestion, Molly turned to the girls.

"Not in the sitting room, girls. Harry's sacked out on the couch. I'm afraid he didn't sleep well last night or the night before. I found him sitting on the couch early this morning. No telling how long he'd been there but I'm sure it had been awhile. Practically fell asleep eating his breakfast."

Ginny frowned. "I thought he seemed a bit tired but he covered it well. He seemed to enjoy the village yesterday."

"Well," inserted Hermione, "except for that one part."

Molly's curiosity piqued, she looked from one to the other. "Oh?"

Ginny grimaced then sighed. "We took him to the little diner. Ordered a huge plate of chips for all of us to share. He liked them well enough. Turns out, his system wasn't quite ready for them."

Guessing what happened, Molly clucked her tongue. "Oh, dear. On top of everything else. It's a miracle the poor thing didn't collapse. Then he spends another sleepless night on the couch. It's no wonder the boy is so totally spent."

"Sounds like he really needs to talk about his past," advised Hermione.

"He won't be pushed, Hermione," Ginny adamantly stated. "I've already told him that I'd listen whenever he was ready to talk."

"So did I," added Molly. "No, the worst thing we could do is try to force Harry to talk. He'll talk when he's ready. In the meantime, Ginny, it appears you'll have a roommate."

Knowing what it cost her mum to say that, Ginny jumped up and threw her arms around her mother.

"Thanks, Mum. You won't regret it."

"As long as I don't have to see that distant, haunted look in his eyes again."

Harry finally woke to the yeasty smell of baking bread. Glancing at the clock told him it was nearly noon. He yawned, stretched and rubbed his eyes before putting on his glasses and following his nose to the kitchen, stomach loudly complaining of its emptiness.

**Hello, Harry. Sleep well? Hungry?**

**Yes, thanks, Mrs. Weasley and very.**

Molly began putting dishes onto the table, stopping long enough to pass Harry an apple. Harry took the apple and headed upstairs for a shower. He reentered the kitchen in time to see the others come in from outside. Ginny smiled when she saw him and Harry felt that swooping sensation in the vicinity of his stomach again. _Her hair is just beautiful, all fiery and golden. It would be so easy to just sit and stare into those honey colored eyes... _He returned her smile as she sat next to him.

After obtaining permission to invite Sirius back that evening, Harry took out his special parchment and began writing.

_Dear Sirius,_

I know it's short notice but my instructor is coming tonight to teach me more sign language and I thought you'd like to be here to learn with us. If you have other plans, that's okay. If you'd like to join us, be here at 5:30.

Harry.

Harry folded the letter and went in search of Hedwig. He found her in Ginny's room. Making sure the bedroom window was open, he motioned Hedwig over, holding up the folded note. Studying the list of names Sirius had given him for the parchment, he tapped the note once with his open hand. A momentary glow surrounded the note and Harry noticed Hedwig duck her head as if acknowledging she'd heard the voice and understood. Hoping he did it right, Harry tied the message to her leg and watched as she soared out the window.

Hermione left shortly after with a promise from Ginny to teach her more signs. Harry was glad the girl had come. He'd made another friend but, moreover, he could see how much happier Ginny was at having another girl around for the past two days. Surprisingly, he looked forward to seeing the brunette again sometime.

Sirius came along a little early to spend some time with Harry. Sirius told Harry stories of what the Marauders did while at school, how they'd pranked an old rival, or James had shown off in front of Lily a few times only to have the stunt backfire and land himself in the Hospital wing. Many times, Harry laughed so hard he cried.

The arrival of Arthur and Madame Grayson cut short the storytelling. Everyone arranged themselves into the sitting room with Harry and Ginny, again, on the couch. Grayson reviewed the alphabet with everyone and, satisfied, decided to move on to family signs, colors, and perhaps feelings, if there was time.

She started as she usually did by pulling out a card for everyone to see. This one had a picture of a mother then made the sign, left palm upward with the index, middle, and ring fingers together of the right hand tapping the palm twice. She walked around the group, making sure everyone could do it correctly before moving on.

Next, came the sign for father. Both hands were held with the index and middle fingers extended and together, with the left palm down. The right fingers tap the left. Grayson brought Molly to the front of the room and asked them the sign for mother, waiting patiently as Ginny finger spelled her request. Then she brought Arthur up to the front and watched everyone sign father.

Brother was the next sign to come. The hands were held as fists and the knuckles rubbed against each other, hands moving in a vertical direction. Ron was chosen to come up to the front to repeat the sign. When Fred and George saw the sign for sister, they began cracking jokes about their 'nosy' sister. Ginny turned and gave them 'The Look' and they quieted immediately. The right hand was held in a fist except for the index finger, which was curled slightly. The hand moved up to tap the side of the finger on the bridge of the nose. Naturally, after the others had been asked to come up to review 'their' signs, Ginny was brought up to the front.

At this point, the instructor paused and glanced to Sirius.

"How are you related to Harry, if I may ask?"

"I'm his godfather but 'uncle' would work, too, if it would be easier."

"I think we'll use uncle."

Once Ginny had relayed to Harry that the next sign would be used for Sirius, adding the sign's true meaning, Madame Grayson slightly curled the index and middle fingers of her right hand and tapped a side of her chin. True to form, she brought Sirius up front, to his utter embarrassment. However, he smiled when Harry signed 'uncle' then the letter 'S', which was made with the left hand palm out and the index finger of the right curling over the pinkie of the left.

The last sign for that word group she gave them was 'family'. Both hands, palms down, had their index and middle fingers extended and touching, the right fingers on top of the left, the hands moving in a horizontal circle. Harry became a little teary eyed when Molly came up to him, pointed at him, at herself then signed 'family'.

A short break was needed after that. Molly served biscuits and tea before they began colors. To demonstrate these signs, Grayson used her 'students' whenever possible. For black, she brought Harry up to the front, pinched a bit of his hair, touched his glasses then signed. Her right hand was a fist that ran down her cheek. For brown, she pinched a lock of her own hair. Her right hand, with fingers bent, pulled from the elbow to wrist of the underside of her left arm.

Since Ginny's hair was the closest to the actual color of red, Grayson used her as a model next. To make sure Harry understood what color she was referring to, she wrote it out for him. Her right index finger brushed her lip. She then had Fred come up to demonstrate the color orange. She picked up some of his hair and then made the sign. The right hand was held near her mouth and made a gentle crushing motion, as if squeezing an orange.

She showed them green, the right hand starts palm down at the left wrist and moves along the top of the arm to the elbow, ending up on its pinkie side at the elbow. She showed them blue, the right hand rubbing the back of the left wrist, keeping both hands horizontal. Purple was signed by holding the index finger of the left hand upright and flicking its tip with the index finger of the right hand. The last color she demonstrated was white. Her right hand mimed flicking a shirt collar.

Everyone was interested in continuing so Madame Grayson moved on to feelings. Naturally, happy came first. The left hand was held palm up. Her right hand came down and tapped palms and moved upward toward the body, repeatedly. Its opposite, sad, she showed, was made by holding the right hand in front of the face, palm to the left, fingers extended and together with the thumb up, then brought to below the chin. Confusion was shown by holding the hands, fingers splayed, and moving them in circles by the forehead.

Sorry was signed by holding the right hand as a fist and moving it in a circle on the chest. Grayson smiled when she came to the next word.

"I know of the Weasley reputation when it comes to pranks. Several of you will appreciate this next one."

She held her right hand in a fist with thumb extended and touching her cheek then moved it down her cheek. "That's how to do 'sly'."

Laughter rang out when it was discover what sign it was they had just done. The twins had fun with it, doing it back and forth to each other.

"Okay, a few more and then we'll be done for tonight. Next, I think we should learn 'tired'. Bring both hands, fingers outstretched, up to your chest and let your thumbs touch your chest. Now flop them down so that the palms touch your chest.

'Nervous' is done by the index finger of your right hand tapping your heart, but moving the entire hand back and forth. 'Scared' is shown by holding both hands, fingers together and bent forming a 'beak', side by side, palms facing the chest. Quickly open them and bring them together over your heart, one on top of the other. Okay, for 'need', hold your right hand open at your chest and let it run a short distance downward. With 'proud', you hold both hands in a fist with your thumbs extended and run the thumbs alternately down your chest. 'Love' is very simple. Just cross your hands over your chest. The final one tonight will be 'hungry'."

"Hey, Ron," joked George. "Here's your own personal sign!"

More laughter followed except for Ron, who made a rude gesture in George's direction. He first made sure Molly wasn't watching.

"For this one, you run your right fist in a circle over your stomach. Now, we just covered quite a bit. Not to worry. I have parchments here with demos of each one we went over and a few extras that I didn't think we needed to emphasize at this time."

She passed out several papers that listed each one and was charmed to show the motions involved as well. Sirius asked for an additional set to give to someone, as did Ginny for Hermione.

"I'll expect you all to practice these as often as possible. I don't, however, expect you to have them memorized. Next week, we'll get into household items, weather, and school related words. Any questions?"

None were asked so she bid them good evening. Sirius stayed for a light supper. They were visiting in the sitting room when suddenly Harry yawned. Mid-yawn, he smacked a hand over his mouth.

**Sorry. Tired,** he signed after looking them up.

**Go on up to bed. Good night, Harry,** Molly wrote him.

Harry sheepishly waved and left. Anxiety swirled inside him as he thought about the night to come. He was sleeping in Ginny's room again, yes, but would it be enough to keep the dreams at bay? He remembered Molly telling him about a sleep potion he could take but he hoped he didn't have to take it. Changing into his sleepwear, he thought about the new words he'd learned. Harry looked over the sheets of parchment one final time before putting them aside and removing his glasses. A final yawn later, he was asleep, dreaming of more pleasant things.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A few nights of sharing Ginny's room worked wonders on Harry. He slept through the night peacefully. The skin under his eyes were losing its bruised look. His complexion, though naturally on the pale side, was gaining a healthier glow. His appetite became a rival of Ron's and a subject for a lot of ribbing. Instead of a bony frame, it became more lanky. The biggest change, however, was in Harry himself. He smiled more, smiles that reached his eyes.

Molly stood at the kitchen window that looked out into the backyard. She could see Ginny and Harry sitting under the big tree, talking. She found herself wondering, not for the first time, whether it was 'okay' for them to spend so much time together. She'd figured, by now, Harry would have sought out male companionship to fill his days. He did, she admitted, do things with Ron, but not often and usually when Ginny was busy. She found herself wondering if, perhaps, Harry was becoming attached to Ginny in an entirely different way. Arthur came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. It was Sunday, and for once, Arthur didn't have to work.

"What's holding your attention out there? Oh."

"Arthur, do you think they spend too much time together? I would have thought Ron would be the one Harry would want to hang out with. Do you think, maybe, Harry's developing more than just a feeling of friendship for Ginny?"

Arthur sighed, took a moment to think and watched the pair. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, soothing, yet determined.

"Harry and Ginny have something in common, whether we like it or not. Under normal circumstances, maybe Harry would have sought out Ron for companionship, but Ron is a year older, a lot bigger, and they just don't have much in common."

The two outside walked to the broom shed and removed a pair of brooms and disappeared to the clearing they used for a pitch.

"If Harry is developing a small crush on Ginny, you should be proud. It means he's feeling comfortable here. It would only be normal for his first foray into that part of life be with someone he feels safe with."

"What makes you so certain?"

Arthur had the grace to flush a bit. "I've been in contact with a couple of Healers. They've told me what signs to watch for."

Molly turned to stare at her husband, an eyebrow raised.

"What? I wanted to be prepared. I wanted to know what to look for and how to help."

Molly wrapped her arms around her husband of many long years. She rested her head on his shoulder a second before giving him a quick kiss.

"That's why I love you, Arthur Weasley. Always looking out for those who need it most."

++++

The sign language instructor was back a few days later. They went over signs that were school-related, such as book, homework, arithmancy, potions, teacher and several others. Harry felt that the hardest out of that group to remember was pencil and quill, and only because they were so similar.

After those were mastered well enough and the practice sheet was handed out for them, Grayson moved to the next subject, weather. They learned signs for expressing the four seasons. Signs for day and night, and every possible type of weather, from sunny to thunderstorm, fog to snow, hot to cold. Harry and several of the others confused the signs for snow and winter, again because of their similarities.

That practice sheet was passed around and then they went on a short tour of the house for the next group of words. Grayson took them to the kitchen and had Molly act as if she was preparing a meal before showing the sign for cook. Table and chair were demonstrated. They all filed outside for other signs planned that evening: vegetable/flower garden, flower, tree and home.

The moment he learned the sign for home, a feeling of contentment and peace washed through Harry. He knew he'd had a home at one time but he couldn't remember it. This was the first home that actually _felt_ like home. Before they reentered the house, Harry pointed to each of the Weasleys, The Burrow, himself, and then signed home.

Molly, in her usual fashion, hugged the daylights out of him. With tears running down her cheeks, she nodded.

"Yes," she spoke as she signed, "home."

A family hug, including Sirius, ensued before they continued on with their 'tour'. Some of the other signs they learned were door, window, bath/shower, car, bed and room. Back in the sitting room, practice sheets were handed out for those words. Grayson briefly touched on the 'question words' who, what, when, why, where and how. Pronouns were also touched upon.

Finished for the evening, they had a light supper and then Madame Grayson Floo'd home. She told them next week would cover food/drinks, numbers, time (day, week, month,) and then some more specific phrases.

Harry, Ginny, Molly and Arthur were gathered in the sitting room relaxing when Arthur got Harry's attention.

**Harry, would you be interested in going to a wizarding school?**

Harry glanced at each of the Weasleys before turning his attention to the floor, brow slightly furrowed. He'd never been to school. _Would I? Would I be stared at like some freak? Ginny's friend, Hermione, was okay. She didn't stare at me. But what if the others did? How many others are there exactly? _A tap on his knee broke him free of his thoughts. Harry looked up to see what Ginny wanted. When she pointed to her father, he glanced to the kind Weasley patriarch.

**You don't have to decide now. If you would like to, you need to get caught up on some of the magical education you've missed. But that wouldn't be too hard, I don't think.**

Harry turned back to Ginny. **Will you be going still?**

**Yes**, Ginny replied, though she really wanted to qualify that with 'if you're going'.

Harry nodded contemplatively. The thought of going to a school where lots of people his own age would be ahead of him, terrified him. Then again, given everything he'd heard from Ginny regarding the Evil wizard who'd killed his parents, could he really afford not to learn as much as he could and be prepared? He studied his hands, weighing his choices before nodding.

**Yes. I think that, maybe, I should.**

After a bit more discussion, Arthur wrote a quick note to Dumbledore and sent it off with Hedwig, knowing she'd get it there much quicker than Errol. He was right. Lunch time the next morning, Hedwig was back with a reply. Luckily, the teens were at the table, still. Molly read the reply and sat across from Harry.

**Harry, Hogwarts is sending one of its teachers to check your charms work. He's just going to be seeing how much you know and if there's anything you need to learn for your age level.**

Harry had to admit, he wasn't expecting it to start already but he shrugged and nodded. He expected to be pretty behind and if he wanted to attend this school, he'd have to work hard to get caught up.

An hour later, the Floo activated and a tiny little man stepped through. Harry couldn't help but stare. He'd never seen a grown adult that small. The little man had white hair and tiny round glasses. The minuscule professor only came up to just past Harry's knee.

"Filius, how nice of you to come," Molly greeted him, warmly.

"When Albus told me I'd be checking the abilities of Harry Potter," he squeaked, "naturally I jumped at the chance."

"Did Albus also tell you of Harry's...well, that he can't hear?"

"Oh, yes," Flitwick waved off Molly's concern, "That won't be a problem. I have a quill charmed to write down what I need said to him."

Molly waved for Harry to step forward and made the introductions.

**Harry, this is Professor Flitwick. He teaches Charms at Hogwarts. He knows you can't hear him so he'll be writing out his questions and answers to any of your questions.**

Flitwick motioned for Harry to follow him into the sitting room. With gentle questioning and testing, they covered all the first year charms. The little professor was most excited to see Harry accomplish so much without a wand. In the presence of Flitwick's enthusiasm, Harry was able to relax and perform each request well beyond what was asked.

Two hours later, it was determined Harry was far beyond his age level and would have no problems whatsoever at school in that subject.

**Harry**, Flitwick wrote, **you'll do fine in Charms. You're actually up to seventh year ability. I won't be seeing you again until the start of term.**

The professor removed a few books on advanced charms from his satchel.

**You might be interested in these. If you have any questions, owl me.**

Harry liked the professor. He'd been extremely patient with their 'language barrier'. He answered all of Harry's questions without a hint of derision. Inside, Harry felt relieved that there was at least one subject in which he'd excel.

++++

The following day saw another visit by another school professor. Harry had been warned that this professor was the woman who'd helped bring him here. At first, he'd been angry and panicky but once he'd had some time to think about it, he realized he now had a home and a family due, in part, to this person. He hadn't seen her since he'd been brought to the Weasleys and he wondered if she was as severe as he seemed to remember her being.

An hour after lunch, the Floo activated and the austere woman stepped through. To her credit, she seemed a little unsure of herself.

**Harry,** Molly began, **this is Professor McGonagall and she teaches Transfiguration, changing one thing into another.**

Before they went anywhere, Harry had something to say to this woman.

**Thank you for bringing me here. I have a family who accepts me and a home, things I never thought I'd have.**

Reading the message, Minerva sniffed, wiped the corner of one eye, and one corner of her mouth tipped upward into a semblance of a grin. Then she bade him follow her into the other room. Harry had been watching the professor closely, therefore noticed the barely there smile. _Maybe she's not as mean as I first thought. I wonder how far I'll rate in this subject._

McGonagall went through all the first year assignments and found Harry could manage those fairly well. Second year, with a bit of work, he accomplished. Third year, he fell way short. Visibly upset at his lack of skill, Harry plopped onto the couch. Minerva attempted to reassure the teen.

**Harry, it's no real surprise you're a bit behind in this subject. Molly tells me you haven't used your magic for years, so you haven't attempted to stretch your abilities. Rest assured, with some effort, you'll be ready for the new term. Don't expect miracles right away, Harry. Give it time.**

They set up a schedule to meet once a week after lunch. She left him the Intermediate Transfiguration text to begin reading for their next session. _Well, that wasn't too bad. _Harry watched as the professor disappeared in a burst of emerald green flames. Harry wandered outside, looking for Ginny. Along the way, he found himself practicing the transfigurations he had trouble with. He turned one rock into a rubber ball. He tried to turn another into a cotton ball. That one only partially changed. It had the texture and appearance of the rock but the squishy softness of a cotton ball. A small stick almost became a pencil. A leaf nearly was strong enough to write upon.

Giving up in frustration, he focused on finding his friend. He found her in the stream splashing with her brother, Ron. Smiling, he watched, unnoticed, as the sun flashed in the water sprays. That dip his stomach took while watching Ginny was becoming very familiar, expected. She laughed and turned away from a wave Ron sent in her direction, causing her hair, now a darker red due to being wet, to spin out, spraying its own droplets everywhere.

Ginny cleared the water from her face and saw Harry watching with a small smile on his face. She couldn't read the expression on his face, in his eyes. Beckoning for him to join them, she walked over to him. The more she tried, the more he refused, claiming not to have the right clothes on. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and blue jean shorts. One giant splash later and Harry's front was drenched. He stared at Ginny who only laughed.

**No excuse now, Harry.**

When he suddenly jumped in and started after her with a predatory gleam in his eyes, she took off running, which, in waist deep water, isn't very fast. Out of no where, arms encircled her waist and she felt a hand dunk her under. The pressure of the hand disappeared immediately and she came up, facing him, standing a lot closer than she'd anticipated. Wiping the water out of her eyes, she found herself staring at his chest, every bit of which was quite visible thanks to the wet shirt molding itself to him like a second skin.

She stood there mesmerized. She couldn't help it. Her brain kept telling her feet to step back but it was like they'd been sucked deep into the bottom of the stream. Her heart jumped and her stomach gave a little dip. _Oh. Wow._ It was all she could think. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen her brothers without their shirts or other articles of clothing, for that matter, but this, this was something different, entirely. She could hear Ron calling to her but it was like she was hearing it underwater. Swallowing with some difficulty she raised her eyes to his.

Harry stood utterly still. He'd never been this close to anyone, much less to someone who made him feel...things. He watched as diamond bright droplets ran down her arms. He smelled her shampoo with every breath he took. His heart thumped double-time. His stomach fluttered even more. In the instant she raised her eyes to his, several things happened. His body responded in an unexpected way. Harry, horrified, began to step back only to get taken out by a huge wall of water sent by Ron.

Harry turned, face hot with shame, climbed out of the stream and headed back to the house at a fast walk.

"What the bloody hell was that for, you git!"

"Oh, come on, Gin. I saw the way you were staring. You were beginning to drool. It was disgusting. I kept calling you but you wouldn't answer so I did the next best thing."

"Yeah, and made Harry run. You're such a prat, sometimes."

Ginny left the stream and went about finding Harry. She found him up in a tree near the waterfall she'd originally found him at. After numerous attempts to get him to come down and talk, she gave up and headed for her room. She needed some advice and hoped her friend could giver her some.

Harry avoided Ginny the rest of the day and the evening. He couldn't look at her without thinking about how she'd looked and how she'd made him feel. Shame flooded him every time he thought about it. _I shouldn't be feeling like that. It isn't right. It's not normal. It's shameful and I'm horrible for it. I've had that lesson beaten into me._ He went to bed early and feigned sleep when Ginny entered her room. He only relaxed when the light was extinguished. Much later, he finally fell asleep and dreamed distorted moments of how often that lesson had been beaten into him coupled with that moment at the stream.

++++

Sirius Floo'd after breakfast to give Harry lessons in History of Magic and Potions. This time, however, Sirius wasn't alone. A man with sandy brown hair with a bit of gray at the temples, weathered face, and troubled eyes came with him. If Harry had to guess the man's age, he thought perhaps a bit older than Sirius.

Harry greeted Sirius with a hug and excitedly telling him what Flitwick had said. When asked about Transfiguration, Harry's countenance fell as if a Dementor had come around and he just shrugged, running a hand through the hair at the back of his head.

**Don't worry, Harry. You'll get it.**

The stranger's eyes followed every move the boy made. Seeing that messy black hair took the man back several years. _He physically resembles James but for Lily's eyes. Well, that expression was all Lily. She used to get all excited like that._ When Harry's demeanor changed and his hand went to his hair, the man chuckled. _Okay, that was definitely James, there._

The chuckle caught Sirius' attention and turned to his companion. They shared a look and nod.

"What did I tell you?" Sirius asked. "There's so much of both of them in him, it's unbelievable."

"It's incredible. What was all that he said?"

"Filius tested him and found him to be way above his age level. It's all wandless, too. He got stuck at third year Transfiguration."

Sirius turned back to Harry to make introductions.

**Harry, I want you to meet someone. This is Remus Lupin. He was another friend of your parents. He's the werewolf I once told you about.**

Harry's eyes widened a bit to that revelation. He studied the man before him. His clothes were barely a few steps up from rags, held together by many repair jobs. Weariness radiated off him in the way he held himself. His gray eyes held Harry's green ones and Harry could see a haunted soul staring back at him. Making up his mind, Harry greeted him.

"What did he say?" Remus asked without taking his eyes from Harry.

Sirius smiled. "He said 'Hello, Uncle Remus'. Haven't you studied any of those sheets I passed along to you?"

"Yes, but right now, my mind's kind of gone blank."

Remus smiled at Harry and put out his hand. What happened next took both Remus and Sirius by surprise. The boy engulfed the man in a hug. Knowing what he did about Harry's discomfort with touch, he glanced at Sirius.

"He allows himself to touch and be touched by those he trusts. He knows we were friends with James and Lily."

Remus' brows disappeared into his hair, not in surprise but more in skepticism. Fortunately, he didn't have to voice it for Sirius to pick up on it.

"From what I understand Harry had a similar reaction with Ginny. Arthur thinks it's because of Ginny's experience in her first Hogwarts year. Harry seems to trust her more than anyone. Harry knows of your condition, what it's cost you, and it's likely that's what he's responding to."

Remus squeezed Harry a bit tighter before pulling away. "It's like looking at James, except for those eyes. While he was talking to you, I could see so much of Lily." Remus laughed. "Then he went and ran his hand through his hair. That was such a James thing to do."

"That's what I thought, too," Sirius laughed before turning to Harry.

**Remus will be teaching you some handy spells and how to defend yourself against dark creatures and dark wizards. But first, History of Magic.**

Sirius handed Harry a text titled A History of Magic. They spent an hour going over the material contained in the first two chapters, hitting the highlights. Sirius made sure Harry understood to actually read the chapters through for the upcoming tests. When that hour was up, they moved on to Potions. Harry flipped through the text, Magical Drafts and Potions while Sirius reached into his bag and removed a cauldron and some potion ingredients.

**Okay, Harry, the first potion we're going to learn is a boil-curing potion.**

Sirius turned to the appropriate page in the text and pointed out each ingredient in the list and its corresponding bottle in front of Harry. He chuckled at some of Harry's reactions to the ingredient list.

_Stewed horned slugs? Oh, gross. Crushed snake fangs? At least dried nettles and porcupine quills are somewhat normal._ Harry read the directions while Sirius lit a small fire under the cauldron. The teen shuddered as he thought of having to handle those ingredients. At Sirius' nod, they began, Sirius showing Harry how to accurately measure each ingredient. By the end of the hour, Harry had come close to producing the correct potion.

When Remus took over, they spent some time glancing through the text, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. The first lesson discussed grindylows and nogtails. When the first part of the lesson was over, Remus took Harry outside to see what kinds of defensive spells Harry could cast.

Starting with Expelliarmus, Remus attempted to explain in broken and hesitant signs or finger spelling, the effect of the spell. Finally giving up, he conjured a self-inking quill and wrote out what he needed. He had Harry face off against him and attempt to disarm him.

Harry faced the man. He felt half afraid to try, thinking the man would be upset with him for succeeding and taking away his wand. He studied the man before him again before breathing deeply. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the effect he wanted. He felt a magical burst run down his arm and through his outstretched hand and opened his eyes in time to duck below the wand careening toward his head. His hand flashed upward and managed to catch the flying piece of wood.

**That was exceptional, Harry. I don't think you need to practice that one so much. Good catch, by the way.**

The stinging hex was another spell the two worked on with Harry casting onto Remus. After a few attempts, he managed it. They continued to work on other mild hexes and jinxes until their time was up. The werewolf found himself a bit jealous of Harry's effortless wandless abilities.

Sirius and Remus stayed for lunch. Remus and Harry took a walk and spent some private time getting to know one another, Harry correcting Remus' signs when needed. Remus answered questions about his past that he usually didn't like to discuss. They talked of Quidditch and how James had played Chaser.

**As quick as you caught my wand earlier, I bet you could play Seeker.**

Harry shrugged. He'd like to play but just couldn't see how. Time-outs were called every now and then. How would he ever know?

**Ah, I'm sure, if you made the House team, they'd find some way to arrange it. You're a Potter, after all, and the last Potter was a brilliant player.**

Harry blushed at the implied compliment. He shrugged again.

**I do enjoy flying. **Harry's face beamed as he spoke of it. **It's like being free. You can just leave all your thoughts and worries on the ground and just be free.**

Remus chuckled. **Your dad used to get that exact same expression on his face when he talked about flying. He felt the exact same way. Many times, when he was troubled over something, he'd go flying, just to take a break.**

Harry's heart soared. He felt gratified to know he had something in common with his father. The smile that graced his features was one full of delight. He'd often been told he looked like his father but not many had told him he was similar to the man in other ways.

Soon after that, the two 'uncles' left. Harry put away his new textbooks and potions supplies, making note of what he needed to have read by the same day the following week. That done, he hesitated. He'd missed spending time with Ginny, missed her companionship. He'd avoided her after what happened at the stream the previous day. _Maybe it won't happen again. In fact, I'll make sure of it. _That settled, he set off to find her.

++++

In nearby Ottery St. Catchpole, a rusty, beaten old junk of an American car drove down the main road. It finally turned into a parking lot at the arcade. A man exited the car and strode into the building. Tall, broad shouldered with deeply tanned and leathery skin, the man wore a permanent scowl. His coal black eyes scanned the interior for the man he was supposed to meet.

Upon finding his quarry, the man shook his shoulder length, scraggly brown hair out of his eyes and walked across the room. Without waiting for introductions, the man spoke in a harsh, impatient tone.

"You Mr. Jensen?"

"I might be. Who's asking?"

"I got a call from a Jake Jensen saying he had information on my missing boy. Are you him?"

The other man stared at the still standing newcomer. An aura of violence radiated from the man so he spoke quickly.

"Yes, I'm Jensen. I saw your boy in here a week or two ago. He wasn't alone. Had a couple redheaded kids and a brunette with him. The redheads come into town occasionally. Real poor looking. Never seen the brunette before."

"Do you know where these redheads live?"

Jensen shrugged. "Nah, somewhere outside of town. Can't be far, though. They don't drive."

The man grabbed a paper napkin and wrote something on it.

"I'm staying over at the Lamb and Flag Inn. Contact me again if you see him."

With that, the tall stranger marched out of the arcade, got back into his car and headed out of town in the hopes of finding these redheaded people.

"You may have gotten away, you weasely little brat, but I'll find you and, when I do, you'll regret ever having left."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The stranger in town, Randal Wakefield had no luck driving around so he returned to his motel room. In his mind's eye, he could picture everything he would do to that boy for leaving the way he did. He poured himself a drink of whiskey, a satisfied smirk marring his face.

++++

Harry found himself busier than he ever thought he'd be. With Molly's help and persuasion, he fell into a routine of studying or practicing for 2 or 3 hours with short breaks in the mornings. He spent the time remaining in the morning lounging around. After lunch, a professor came for 2 or 3 hours and then he was free the rest of the day, unless it was the day his sign language instructor came. He amazed himself at how much knowledge he absorbed. He felt like a dry sponge slowly soaking up all the information, his brain expanding with each little tidbit.

His sign language instructor had come and gone and now he knew how to sign all his favorite foods and then some. He could now count, express the passage of time, and say other phrases such as 'thank you' and 'you're welcome'.

Harry was quite proud of himself. He'd managed not to be 'stuck' alone with Ginny in a situation that put them so close together. However, the scent of her shampoo taunted him. He smelled it with every breath he took. Harry thought it a dangerous scent for he was starting to sniff the air, hoping to get a whiff of that flowery fragrance.

One morning after breakfast, he was washing the dishes while Molly was out in her vegetable garden. Harry startled when two arms appeared, one on each side of him, with a plate in each hand. He felt the light brush of a body along his back as one plate was placed in the water then the brush again as the other plate was released. He smelled her shampoo and practically gulped. Turning his head to look over his shoulder put his face mere inches from Ginny's. Once again, he had that same physical reaction. Face flooded with shameful heat, Harry blindly ran.

Ginny watched Harry go. This time she had gotten a look at his face before he'd disappeared and was bothered by what she saw. It wasn't embarrassment like she'd first thought, but shame and self-loathing. _Hermione was right. Why didn't I think of that? It makes sense. He wouldn't have had anyone to tell him about that. _ She glanced out the window, saw her mum in the garden and decided to go for a chat.

++++

"Hi, Mum," Ginny said a bit hesitantly.

Molly straightened from checking on her tomatoes and focused on her daughter. She noticed the reluctance in the girl's stance and wondered what was bothering her. Putting down her basket, she ambled over to the garden's edge, summoned the chairs and table from beside the back door and conjured a pitcher of lemonade.

"Have a seat, Ginny. You look like you have something on your mind. Anything I could help you with?"

"Well," Ginny paused, unsure how to go about saying what it is she wanted to say. "I've noticed something about Harry."

Molly outwardly appeared calm but inside she'd tensed. _Here it is. She's about to say what I think she's about to say. I just know it. What do I say? That it's just a passing thing? Should I encourage it? What?_

"I think I like him, Mum. More than just a friend. He makes me feel so...jittery inside. And unless I miss my guess, from the looks he's given me at certain moments, I think he feels the same way. Then he'd get this other look on his face and I wasn't sure what it meant. I wrote Hermione and told her everything and she thinks he's feeling ashamed of those feelings, like maybe he doesn't know what's going on or has been made to think it's not normal. So I just kind of tested the theory and I think she's right. He practically ran from me, his face red and looking ashamed."

Ginny had said her entire monologue staring at the ice in her lemonade, not daring to look her mother in the eye. Now, however, after a few moments of silence, she glanced up. Molly wasn't looking at Ginny any longer. She was taking in the country scenery. Her brow slightly furrowed, she seemed to be in the middle of a debate with herself. After a full minute, Molly turned back to her.

"You could be right about Harry. I never thought about that part. Your father and I have discussed this part of life in regards to Harry but it never dawned on me that Harry may need _that_ talk. As for your feelings, I know I've given you _that_ talk already. I've thought long and hard about what I'm going to say."

Molly paused to gather her courage. After a deep calming breath, she turned back to her little girl who wasn't so little anymore.

"I knew you'd start to have those feelings about a young man soon enough. I won't try to tell you exactly what it means because I don't know the feelings you're experiencing, I can only guess. The only way to find out is to follow them." Molly's voice had been gentle then hardened some with her next words. "To a certain extent."

"I know, Mum. Thanks for not trying to lecture me. I'm glad we were able to talk about this openly."

"Me, too, sweetheart. Do I need to worry about him sleeping in your room?"

"No, especially not right now. But even when things are straightened out, we won't do anything, I promise."

"I'm trusting you now."

"I know."

"All right, I'll talk to your father and, perhaps, Sirius tonight." Molly sighed. "Harry's life has been like a giant maze. He's been turned around and twisted back and forth so much he doesn't know which way is the right way. Just when I was thinking it had been straightened out, there's another dead end forcing us to go back and redo what was done before."

Deciding to go for a walk, Ginny gave her mum a kiss and headed in the direction of the thin forest on their property.

++++

Harry had disappeared to Ginny's room. Not the brightest of ideas if he wanted to be alone, but instinct had driven him there. He threw himself onto his bed. _What the bloody hell is wrong with me? What is...that...all about? Why does it happen when I'm so close to her? Why can't I control it?_ Harry wrapped himself in the top sheet and fell asleep thinking of his 'problem'.

The next thing Harry knew, he was dreaming.

_He was in the stream with Ginny, splashing and having a good time. He wasn't sure how, but suddenly they were standing close together. Ginny ran a finger along his stomach making it jump. It felt good to have her touch him in such a way. Her finger slowly made its way north to his chest and he could no longer breathe. The feelings now bombarding him were strong, aching, needing, but what he didn't know._

Her free hand took one of his and placed it at her waist. Her skin was like heated silk. When Ginny leaned forward and placed her lips against his neck in a butterfly kiss, he gave in and gladly drowned in the flood of sensations filling him...

Harry jerked awake, unevenly breathing, sweating, and... _Wet? Sticky? Oh no! Not again. This cannot be happening again. I thought I had learned my lesson two years ago. Now what do I do? They can't know. They can't know what's happening. They'll think I'm sick. They'll..._ That's as far as he got when the door opened and Molly entered.

Harry scrambled to a sitting position, making sure the sheet was casually bunched in his lap. He knew his face was glowing, he could feel the heat. He refused to look the woman in the eye so it came as a shock to feel the bed give beside him. He looked up to see Molly waiting for his attention.

**Sorry to come in. When I didn't receive the signal, I thought you may have fallen asleep. I wanted to tell you lunch is nearly ready.**

Molly patted Harry on the knee, eliciting a slight jerk away from her touch. She took in his agitated state, clutching the sheet covering him, his reddened face and guessed what was wrong. Deciding to play things off, she stood up.

**Get up and around and come down for lunch. You need a full stomach before you try to do any school work.**

Molly gave Harry a quick little smile before leaving. She stood behind the closed door a moment, her hand flat against the cool wood. Once again, she shook her head at the life Harry had been forced to lead. It saddened her to think someone out there was heartless enough to do what had been done to that precious child. She heard the rustling of movement and quickly made her way back to the kitchen.

Harry didn't think he'd ever been so relieved. _I thought she knew. She couldn't have figured it out, though. She just got up and left so she can't know. _A rumbling in his stomach had him getting up, grabbing a change of clothes, and heading for the loo. He'd checked the sheets and, thankfully, they hadn't been soiled.

Lunch was a bit awkward between Harry and Ginny again. Molly watched as Harry talked more with Ron than with Ginny. On more than one occasion, though, she caught him sneaking glances at Ginny. His eyes were so filled with confusion and something darker, shame and self-disgust, she was tempted to take the poor boy aside that moment and explain things to him. However, it would only makes things worse, so she decided an impromptu trip was just the thing they needed.

"After Harry's lesson today, why don't we all walk down to the village? I haven't been to the bakery in ages and would love to see what they have."

Molly turned to Harry. **Would you like to go to the village again, Harry? After your lesson, of course.**

Though his first experience hadn't been overly pleasant, it hadn't been too bad either. Harry thought a minute. _I wonder if I can try some chips again. I think I'm ready now. I've been putting on weight, I don't look so skinny anymore. I'd like to get something for them all, to thank them. Not to mention, Ginny's birthday in just over a month._

**Okay. Can we go to the diner again and get some more chips? I think I'm ready this time.** At Molly's look of uncertainty, Harry pleaded with his eyes before signing,**Please?**

Molly looked at those 'puppy eyes' and shook her head and smiled.

**All right, but for a SMALL snack. I don't want you ruining your supper.** She was rewarded with a brilliant and excited smile. She turned back to her food, hoping to hide her watery eyes. _How he can still be so childlike is beyond me. Those 'puppy eyes', who can say no?_

++++

After each chose a scone from the bakery to eat after supper, Molly split ways with the kids, procuring their promise to return to the bakery in a couple hours. Molly headed for a fabric store and the teens to the arcade. But first, Ginny dragged them into the pet store to coo over the new little kittens.

Just as they entered the shop, the next door over opened and Randal Wakefield stepped out. He looked around awhile then turned left. He glanced in disgust at the giant pane of glass with the puppies in the window but all he saw was his reflection. Crossing the street, he passed a store containing many spindles of fabric in all patterns and colors. He went into the business next door at the same moment Molly exited the textiles shop, bag full of new patterns, fabrics, and skeins of yarn.

Harry and Ron finally dragged Ginny out of the pet store and into the arcade. They played a few games of billiards then tried their hand at the electronic games. Harry decided now was the time to separate and get the gifts he wanted. After a brief but heated debate with Ginny, he slipped out the door.

Walking along, he decided to look for something for Arthur first. He came to a toy store and thought it perfect, so went inside. Across the street, another door opened and Wakefield exited. He stood still, thinking, before crossing the street, again. Right next to the toy store was a hobby store, selling sports memorabilia, comic books and old coins. Thinking he might find some information there, Wakefield entered the store.

Some time later, Harry exited the toy store, a box of a model plane in his hand. _Arthur will love this. He's always talking about airplanes._ He was so engrossed with the model, he wasn't watching where he was going and bumped into someone. He glanced up into the face of a man who didn't appear that happy with him. Harry tried to relay he was sorry but the man just said something and stalked away. Turning back to his gift-to-be, he took a few more steps and bumped into someone else leaving the shop next to the toy store. Harry looked up again and froze as if he'd been petrified. In a very real sense, he had been.

Harry felt all the blood drain from his face as he stared into one of the faces that haunted his nightmares. Both man and boy stood stone still for all of a minute before Harry reacted. He dropped the airplane box and ran back down the sidewalk towards the arcade, his last abusive 'father' on his heels. He could feel every brush of the man's fingers as they attempted to grab Harry's shirt.

Knowing he was never going to make it to his friends, he ducked down the nearest alley. The other end was blocked by a brick wall but there was an outside fire escape attached to the wall of the building on the right. He almost made it when he felt a large hand grab the back of his shirt and spin him in a complete circle before sending him crashing into the wall, his head bouncing painfully off the concrete. Through the blood streaming into his eyes and his broken glasses, Harry stared, terrified.

"Thought you could get away from me, did you?" Randal spat at the boy in front of him, though he knew his words wouldn't be heard.

"Thought you'd gotten the best of ol' Randal? Nobody gets the best of Randal, nobody."

Randal backhanded Harry across the face, busting open Harry's lip with a signet style ring on his finger and sending the boy to the ground. The man's foot lashed out and kicked the teen in his side; a muted cry escaped. The sound seemed to incense Wakefield for his foot connected again with Harry's side. This time, no sound escaped.

"That's what I like to see and hear," Randal sneered. "A boy who can take his punishment like a man. No babyish cries."

He stepped back and admired his handiwork. His empty black eyes watched as Harry painfully curled in on himself and rolled from his side to his knees, presenting his back. An unholy grin crossed the man's weathered face and he reached for his belt.

"Yes," he said as if Harry had suggested this, "I think you deserve this particular punishment, as well."

Harry flinched at the first strike of the leather across his back but he'd long since retreated into a place that was serene, where no hurt existed, where he thought nothing could reach him. Seeing this evil from his past had sent Harry back years, everything he'd recently learned and accomplished temporarily pushed out of his mind. He'd reverted back to his childhood and responded now, as he had then, by blanking out.

++++

"So where did Harry go?" asked Ron as he and Ginny left the arcade.

'He said he wanted to do some things alone."

"And you let him?" Ron turned to his sister in shock. "How's he supposed to talk to people?"

"He can read and write, remember? Besides, I thought he needed to experience a little freedom."

"He's had that!" Ron's exasperation was plain. "He's been by himself for a long time."

"But he's never been able to buy things, Ron. That's probably what he's doing and was just embarrassed to do it in front of us."

"Yeah, guess so."

Brother and sister walked a short distance in silence. As they were crossing an alley, Ginny glanced idly down into it. She stopped in her tracks at the sight that greeted her. A man was hitting something on the ground with something. Ginny reached out and stopped Ron from continuing.

"You know, even after everything I've seen, I still have a hard time believing people can be so violent." She pointed down the alley with her head as she spoke.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "well, come on, we need to find Harry."

Ginny started to follow but something made her take one more glance back down the alley. The something on the ground moved and she realized it was a some_one_. The someone's hands moved to claw at the ground and suddenly Ginny felt faint. _Dark hair. Not just dark, but black. No. No, it can't be._ The way the person huddled there, letting his back take the brunt of the attack, blared the truth. Ginny's stomach twisted.

"Oh, God."

Hearing his sister's whispered cry, he turned in time to see her run down the alley.

"Ginny!"

"Get your filthy hands off him! NOW!"

Randal turned at the intrusion, saw two redheads running down the alley. He turned back to the boy.

"These those redheaded friends of yours?" He snorted derisively. "As if anyone would be friends with the likes of you." He turned to the newcomers.

"What are you going to do to stop me, missy?"

Ginny reached into her back pocket and froze. She forgot her mum wouldn't allow her to take her wand. Ron didn't have his either. Looking around, her eyes landed on a stray beam of wood, about two feet in length and two inches thick and wide. Ginny grabbed it and held it out in front of her like a sword.

"Ron, find Mum," Ginny said calmly, never once taking her eyes from the vicious man.

"I'm not leaving you here with him!" Ron yelled, indignant.

"DO IT. For Harry."

For the first time, Ron glanced at the quaking, huddled mass on the ground. His pale complexion turned pasty when he realized who it was. _I would have walked right on by if it hadn't been for Ginny._ Without a word, Ron turned and ran, hoping he'd find his mum fast.

++++

For a long while, Wakefield and Ginny circled each other. He finally advanced and she swung the board. It connected but it wasn't enough to stop him. He grabbed her around her throat and stared down at her. The defiance he saw there angered him and he threw her down next to Harry. Two steps later, a yell stopped him.

"DO NOT TOUCH EITHER OF THOSE CHILDREN!"

A middle-aged redheaded woman walked slowly toward him with the boy from before. She had some stick pointed at his chest. _A stick? What's she going to do with a stick? The chit couldn't defend herself with a two by four. What makes this woman think she can use a stick against me?_ The notion was so ludicrous, he laughed.

"I said, back away from those children."

Molly's voice was jade hard. When Ron had told her what he'd seen and that Ginny was here, she panicked. All sorts of visions swam before her eyes as she and Ron hurried over to the alley. Surprised that no one had intervened before now, she'd cast a quick muggle repelling charm at the entrance to the alley. She didn't dare look at either of the teens behind the man.

"Who are you and why did you attack that boy?"

"Mind your own business, lady."

"Well, I would except those are my kids you've attacked."

"The redhead maybe," Randal's voice dripped with insolence. "The other one can't be yours because he belongs to me. I took him in when his family gave up on him. He paid me back by attacking me, stealing money from me, and running away. He's getting what's coming to him and then I'm going to take him back with me."

"Oh, I don't think so," Molly replied, voice soft steel.

A quick flick of her wand and a murmured message later, a silvery form sailed off into the distance.

"What the hell was that?"

"Don't worry yourself about that. Move away from the kids."

Randal narrowed his eyes. Throughout the time the boy had been with him, he'd seen some funny things. One minute something would be broken and then with a single touch from the boy's hand, it would mend itself. He'd also seen things float in the air when the boy's hands were covered in bruises or sores, as if it hurt to carry them.

"You're like _him_, aren't you? You can do things, strange things, that most people can't do."

"Mum," Ginny croaked, "I'm okay. Harry's not. He hasn't moved at all. It's as if he's not even aware of anything. It's like he's shut everything out."

"He probably has," a new voice said.

"Daddy!"

"You okay, sweetheart?" Arthur asked, keeping his eyes and his wand trained on the man.

"I'm fine, but..."

"I know, Ginny, and we'll take care of him."

"Like hell you will!" the cornered man yelled.

"That's right we will," another voice belonging to a dark-haired man said.

"And you'll not be returning here. Ever," a sandy-haired man added.

Wakefield stared at the four obstructing his exit. Thinking the only way out was with a hostage, he took a step toward the girl and suddenly he was being bound tightly by ropes. The ropes wrapped themselves around his chest, binding his arms to his sides. More ropes wrapped around his ankles sending him toppling to the ground.

++++

_I knew it wouldn't last long. I was too happy. Now I'm going to have to leave again._ Harry's conscious mind manifested itself as a mirror image of his outward appearance. That mirror image wandered around a grassy field, his mind's safe haven. A soft breeze skittered through the tall wildflowers. Silence was a loud sound. A tree appeared and somehow beckoned for him to come to it. Deciding he had nothing else to do, he gave in to the impulse.

He sat under the tree and felt as if its limbs had tenderly closed themselves around him, though they hadn't moved a bit. He felt safe, comforted. It wasn't long before he began to get a whiff of a familiar scent. _I know that scent. What is it?_ He sniffed the air a few more times. _It smells like...Ginny! No, oh please, no! No, she's not here! She can't be! Please tell me she's not hurt, too! Ginny needs me! I have to help her! I have to!_

Slowly, Harry became aware of his surroundings. He hurt, badly. His face hurt, his side ached every time he took a breath, and his back was killing him. He could smell her, could see someone sitting right in front of him whom he assumed was Ginny. Without his glasses and with the blood matting one eye shut, he couldn't tell whether she was hurt.

His movement must have caught her eye for she gently took his hand, smiled and leaned close so he could see her eyes, telling him with her eyes things were going to be okay. He looked around and saw his 'father' and then noticed the others. Sirius, Remus, Arthur, and Molly were there, if he could read the blurs correctly. And Ron, too.

Harry watched as the man was brought down by magical ropes. He let Ginny help him stand but he couldn't stand completely upright, his side hurt too much. He watched as a redheaded blur came running to them, arms outstretched and ready to give a hug, but the blur, who turned out to be Molly, stopped short of touching him and Ginny.

Gently, he felt the dried blood lift from his face. This close he could see her repair his glasses. With loving care, she placed the newly repaired glasses on his nose. He flinched at her touch and hated himself for it. Seeing the hurt in her eyes, he looked away and his gaze landed on the man in ropes.

A fury began to swell inside. _He was supposed to love me, to take care of me. Instead he showed me nothing but contempt. He hated me and treated me like a slave. No, worse than a slave, like gum on the bottom of his shoe. And now he's brought his hatred here. It's touched everyone I care about. He's not going to hurt anyone anymore. I won't let him._

Oblivious to what he was doing, Harry stepped away from Molly and Ginny and gingerly walked over to his 'father'. His foot lashed out and connected with the man's side. It felt good enough, he did it again. Then knelt down and punched him in the jaw. Over and over again, Harry unleashed the fury of a messed up childhood and the tainting of his new family, punching everywhere he could reach. Angry tears blurred his vision but he didn't care. The storm needed an outlet and it had found one.

Out of no where, strong but gentle hands grabbed each of his arms and pulled him from the now unconscious man. Harry struggled heavily against Sirius and Remus. He wasn't done! Harry struggled a few more seconds before he collapsed, sobbing and clinging to his godfather.

Sirius held the boy against his chest as best he could without aggravating the injuries. Tears slid down his cheeks with every shake of Harry's shoulders. Remus gently lay one hand on Harry's head, wiping at his eyes with the other.

Molly came over and healed all of Harry's minor injuries as best she could and quietly spoke to Sirius.

"Why don't you take him to The Burrow? He's been staying in Ginny's room. Remus, take Ginny and Ron with you, please."

With a nod, Sirius disappeared with Harry still clinging to him. Remus joined Ginny and Ron, instructed them to hold tight, and they also disappeared.

++++

Molly rejoined Arthur. "What shall we do with him?"

Arthur looked wearily down at the man. He'd never seen Harry react so violently and he had to admit it scared him a little. The release of fury Harry rained upon this man was a testament to what the teen had endured his entire life. This one man represented the countless others who were supposed to protect and love Harry but didn't, therefore bore the brunt of the storm once it had been unleashed. Arthur knew Harry had needed to confront the man, to exorcise his demons, to let go of it all but he wasn't sure this was the right way. He sighed heavily.

"First of all, heal all his wounds."

As Molly did so, Arthur conjured a bucket of water. Once Molly had finished, Arthur dumped the water onto the man's face, effectively bringing him around. Before the bound man could say anything, Arthur leaned over him.

"Listen and listen well. I want to know your name and then I want you to get up and walk away from this town and never come back. Harry is staying right where he is."

Something in the redheaded man's demeanor told Wakefield that the man standing over him was quite serious. For the first time in a very long time, he felt fear.

"My name is Randal Wakefield."

Arthur waited but that was all the response he received. "I had really hoped we wouldn't have to do this, Randal Wakefield, but, perhaps, it's for the best."

Arthur pointed his wand at Randal's forehead and muttered a spell and then whispered in the man's ear. Molly gasped but held her tongue until her husband was finished. The Weasley patriarch removed the ropes and helped the man up.

Randal Wakefield exited the alley, confused as to why he'd gone down the alley in the first place. With purposeful strides, he walked to his motel, gathered his things, jumped in his car and left the little town behind, never to return.

"Arthur, do you really think it wise to have erased his memory of Harry? What if the man had a family who knew of Harry? They'll find it strange Mr. Wakefield no longer remembers him. What if they come looking?"

Arthur turned to his wife. His eyes were hard. Harder than Molly had ever seen them. "Let them."

He removed the muggle repelling charm Molly had cast. Together, they apparated back home to the boy who needed them.

++++

Sirius carried a dead weight Harry up the first flight of stairs and into Ginny's room. Gently, he lay the teen on his bed. Harry rolled onto his side, facing Sirius, one hand fisted tightly in Sirius' shirt. Sirius watched Harry helplessly. The tears were beginning to subside but in their wake seemed to be a distance, a numbness. He heard Remus and the others on the stairs but was glad to see Harry drift off into an exhausted sleep.

The bedroom door opened and Remus stepped in with Ron and Ginny on his heels.

"How is he?" Remus whispered.

"Just fell asleep," Sirius whispered back.

"Will he be okay?" Ginny asked tentatively, swiping a few tears from her cheek.

Ron put his arm around his sister's shoulders and hugged her tightly. "Of course he will. He's been doing loads better. He's gotten stronger. You'll see."

The four of them watched as the battered teen slept on, deep in their own thoughts. Molly's voice startled them all.

"Sleep is a good thing. I have a feeling he's going to need lots of it for a while."

She went about removing the soiled clothing, after sending Ron and Ginny out, cleaned off any dirt or dried blood, gave him a quick wash and healed the brand new belt marks across Harry's back. Next, she smoothed some ointment on Harry's hands to ease the stiffness left behind from the now healing bruises and once opened skin. Her final task consisted of redressing Harry. With Sirius and Remus present, she had them put on the pair of loose shorts she'd pulled out. Since Harry had yet to let go of Sirius, they decided to forego a shirt.

"I'll stay with him," Sirius volunteered, smiling, "since it seems I don't have much choice in the matter."

Sirius conjured a lightweight blanket and draped it over Harry.

With a nod and final glance at Harry, Remus followed Molly and Arthur out of the room. They met in the kitchen where Ron and Ginny had prepared a light snack. Everyone took their seats and all eyes turned to Molly and Arthur.

Arthur cleared his throat. "We'll never have to worry about him again. He's left town and he's never coming back."

A collective sigh filled the room as Remus, Ron and Ginny released the breath they'd been holding. One by one, a teacup was filled and a biscuit was munched as the somber group wondered how Harry could possibly deal with what had happened..


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

For an entire week, Harry remained in bed, not interacting with anyone, lost in his own world. Everyone took turns sitting next to his bed, writing messages to him in the hopes that he would come out of his stupor and see how much he was missed. He'd stopped eating and Madame Pomfrey had to be summoned to give him nutrient potions. The morning of the seventh day finally saw a change.

_It's so beautiful here. The sun is warm without being hot, the prickly green grass tickles my feet. The breeze,_ Harry closed his eyes, arms outstretched, allowed the flow of air to pass over him, _ah, it's perfect. I smell...what is that? I smell...is that...strawberries?_ A shadow passed overhead and Harry looked up to see a giant raincloud bearing down on him. _What's going on? It's never rained here before. I control this place and I don't want it to rain. _The cloud did not, however, disappear and soon fat drops splattered his face. A tugging sensation called him away from his idyllic world at the same time he could feel a slight pressure over his upper body.

Harry opened his eyes and saw a cute perky nose that seemed quite familiar. A trembling set of lips came into view next. Drops continued to assault his face and he realized they were tears. The weight he'd noticed over his upper body was the gentle weight of Ginny leaning over him, her forehead resting against his, her arm thrown across his chest. It was an odd feeling but he found it, surprisingly, comfortable, soothing. The urge to comfort Ginny hit him hard. Her lips were right there, a hairs breadth from his. Then the reason he'd retreated to that place in his mind came back to him and he tensed.

Ginny felt the change and looked into his uncertain jade eyes. A smile to rival the sun in its brilliance spread across her face. Relief mixed with joy, she unthinkingly pressed her lips to his. She felt him try to move and jumped back, heat flooding her face. Fumbling with a piece of parchment and quill, she missed the fact his arm had started to reach for her before falling back to the bed.

**Harry, welcome back. How do you feel? You're likely tired. That's normal. Are you hungry?**

Harry read the hastily jotted message and smiled. He did feel tired but he was also ravenous. Shakily, he signed back to her. He watched as Ginny jumped up, threw open the door and stuck out her head momentarily. Seconds later, Sirius, Remus, Molly, Arthur, and Poppy Pomfrey, followed Ginny into the room. Fred, George, and Ron hovered at the door.

The nurse waved her wand around Harry, nodded and studied him a second. Picking up parchment and quill wrote a quick message. Folding it half, she handed it to the boy. With a nod of her head, she turned to Molly.

"Start him on soups, pastas, cheese omelets. Simple stuff only, for now. I'll leave two doses of Strengthening Solution. One for today, one for tomorrow. Water to drink only. I'll be back by in a couple days to check on his progress. Call me if you need me before then."

Poppy smiled at the group, turned back to Harry and reached out to pat his arm but he flinched away from her hand. Schooling her features not to show her sadness, she nodded at him and pointedly looked at the note in his hand. Seeing he understood, she exited the room, Molly following after her.

Sirius sat next to Harry. **If you need someone to talk to, you can talk to any of us.**

Harry nodded. Sirius nodded, as well, and started to rise. Harry's hand shot out, encircling Sirius' wrist. Before his courage left him, Harry hugged his godfather. It was a quick hug but a hug nonetheless. He didn't like what he'd been forced to become once again. From the moment he'd come back to reality, he'd subconsciously decided to not allow that man to affect him anymore. Easier said than done, he'd found. He couldn't stop from jumping out of the nurse's reach but he'd managed to force himself to seek out contact with someone other than Ginny. Harry looked at the faces of those gathered around him.

**I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused but thank you for helping me. I've determined I don't want my childhood to rule me anymore. I don't like not trusting others, not letting myself feel anything.**

Arthur got Harry's attention and met the teen's eyes unwaveringly. **You've been no trouble. Don't take on other people's problems. We love you, Harry. We'll do whatever is necessary to keep you safe. That man will never come after you again.**

Sirius stood up and backed off so Remus could sit down. The weary man seemed even more so as he sat and studied his best friend's son. It hurt to know he'd failed James when it came to Harry. It may have been unintentional but he'd still failed them both.

**That's very wise of you to come to that conclusion. It won't be easy but we'll all help you as much as we can.**

Harry nodded. For the first time ever, he felt as if things were really going to be okay. No longer did he feel weighed down with fear and anxiety. He wasn't naïve enough to believe he'd ever be 'normal', his deafness and his fame would not allow it, but he started to believe he'd be more normal than he'd ever been.

**When can I go back to my studies?**

No one had anticipated this question so they all looked at each other uncertainly. Before a guess could have been ventured, Molly returned with a tray of vegetable soup and a pitcher of ice water floating in front of her. A loud grumbling sounded causing everyone to chuckle. Harry covered his stomach and grinned sheepishly, having felt the gnawing sensation in his middle. Taking the bowl, he quickly dug in, too preoccupied with filling the emptiness in his belly to pay attention to the conversation around him.

Sirius watched the boy practically inhale the soup and joked, "Didn't Poppy give Harry a nutrient potion this morning? He acts like he hadn't been fed in the past week."

"Yes," Molly answered, her tone clear she didn't feel it was a laughing matter. "Nutrient potions give the body just what it needs to survive; they're not that filling. He may give Ron a run for his money for awhile but eventually he'll stop needing so much."

Remus and Arthur both laughed before Arthur replied. "Are you sure about that? How many sons have we raised?"

Molly conceded their point. All of her sons had healthy appetites, Ron especially. It wasn't so long ago that she couldn't remember how difficult it was to keep food in the house with a bunch of growing boys. They all seemed to have hollow legs. _This one is going to need so much more than my boys did. I wonder if he'll ever look well-fed. He may not considering how stunted his growth has been with not being able to eat enough but I will do my best to change that as much as I can._

Ginny sat on the bed even with Harry's knees. In one hand, she held a tall glass of ice water. The other waited to take the bowl. It didn't have long to wait. Within a few short minutes, Harry had gobbled up all the soup. He handed the bowl over and retrieved the glass and downed a good portion of it. Then he sat back and relaxed against the wall, sipping the drink. Ginny patted his knee and a not unpleasant shiver ran through him. Mistaking his shiver for his aversion to touch, she quickly moved her hand. Harry placed the glass back on the desk next to his bed and hesitantly, almost shyly, squeezed her hand, trying to say what she'd done was okay. He turned back to the others and asked the question he'd never received an answer for.

**When can I get back to my studies?**

Since Molly had been the only one to spend time with Poppy after Harry's waking, all eyes turned to her.

**Well, Harry, dear, you'll have to wait until you get your strength back but ****that shouldn't be but a day or two. However, you can still keep up with them by reading the necessary chapters.**

Two weeks later showed a marked improvement in Harry. He still didn't seek out physical contact except with Ginny but he barely flinched when someone would forget and touched him. He'd thrown himself into his studies in a way that Hermione would have been proud of. He continued to excel at Defense. He and Remus dueled often after spending the first part of their lesson going over dark creatures.

Because of Harry's horrible past, Remus took it upon himself to teach Harry the Patronus charm. After some thorough searching, he'd found a few spells that could mimic the effects of a dementor. Lupin hated to use them but felt Harry needed to be able to withstand those effects enough to conjure a patronus, so every session found them outside working on it.

**Okay, Harry. Ready?**

Remus and Harry stood in the backyard facing each other, several feet apart, as if about to duel. At Harry's nod Remus cast the spells that would mimic a dementor.

First the one that made Harry feel cold and fear. "Horriferum!" Followed quickly by the spell causing a person to feel dread. "Formidolosus!"

Remus waved his wand again and cast the final spell, one that made Harry relive his past.

"Firmus nocens monumentum!" he said with reluctance.

The effect was immediate. Harry clapped his hands over his ears in a futile effort to shut out what he was seeing and 'feeling' in his head. He forgot all about the happy memory he was supposed to be thinking of. Forgot all about attempting to conjure a Patronus. He found himself drowning in the sights and sensations he'd much rather forget.

The next thing he knew, Remus was kneeling over him, worry etched in his face. The ground bit into his side and Harry wondered how he'd ended up there. Though the air was warm, he shivered almost convulsively. Sitting up with Remus' help, he watched as the older man pulled something out of his pocket and unwrap it. The man broke off a small piece and ate it before breaking off a larger piece and holding it out for Harry.

Curious, Harry took the piece in a shaky hand and raised to his mouth. Sweetness assaulted his tongue as warmth immediately flooded his system, warming him from the inside out. His heart rate slowed, his trembling all but stopped, his breathing normalized. Astonishment spread across Harry's face and he stared at the remaining bit of the stuff in Remus' hand.

**It's chocolate. It's powerful stuff.** Then Remus smiled. **It's also very good.**

Harry nodded his agreement. Feeling better, he started to stand and brush off the dirt from his clothes. They tried a few more times that day but didn't succeed. The next week bore different results.

After choosing his happy memory, Remus cast the spells. Again, Harry felt the loneliness, pain and despair he'd felt before but this time he fought it and remembered that day when he'd learned the signs for family and home and Mrs. Weasley had hugged him and signed family back to him. He remembered exactly how the sun had felt on his skin, how the love seemed to flow between the Weasleys and himself that day. Harry concentrated on that feeling, stretched out his hands in front of him and felt his magic respond to his will.

At first, only a white mist shimmered from his hands. Then, the mist solidified into a full corporeal Patronus in the form of a stag. As soon as the stag appeared, the cold, the dread and the bad memories faded into nothingness. Harry couldn't hold it long and it quickly disappeared but he was ecstatic that he had succeeded.

**Well done, Harry! Very well done. Many fully grown wizards and witches can't produce a fully formed Patronus.**

They practiced a few more times and each time Harry succeeded. As they were walking back towards the Burrow, Remus divulged a secret about Harry's father.

**It's interesting that your Patronus is a stag, Harry. You see, Sirius and your dad learned how to change into animals to keep me company on nights of the full moon.**

Harry stared at Remus a full minute before answering. **You can really do that? Change into an animal, I mean.**

**It takes lots of study and practice but yes it's possible. Sirius' form is a big black dog while your father's form was a stag.**

**Really?**

**Yes, really.**

Remus smiled at the proud grin Harry wore. He knew what Harry had to be thinking. It was one more thing that connected him to his dad.

On the last day of July, Harry woke, showered and headed downstairs like he did every morning. However, breakfast wasn't the usual every day breakfast. He stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and just gawked. Balloons that shimmered a rainbow of colors across their surface were attached in little clusters to the walls and chairs. Rainbow streamers, attached at one point in the middle of the ceiling, radiated outward in gently curving upside down arcs to the the walls where they were attached again and then left to dangle. What appeared to be tiny red broomstick confetti pieces zoomed through the air.

Molly noticed Harry standing in the doorway and motioned him forward. When he'd finally taken his seat, she explained the decorations.

**It's your birthday, Harry. You're fifteen years old today. Eat your breakfast. We have a surprise coming for you later.**

Harry looked around at the familiar faces. All the Weasleys, Hermione, Sirius, and Remus were smiling at him. Somewhat embarrassed at being the center of attention and yet oddly excited, too, he glanced at the breakfast spread out on the table. He'd taken a special liking to Mrs. Weasley's banger and fried potato omelets as well as her banana nut pancakes. Both were present as well as scones, fresh fruit and bacon. Pitchers of pumpkin juice rested on each end and one in the middle. Eyes watering at the thought of the Weasley matriarch going to all the trouble to decorate the kitchen and prepare all his favorite breakfast foods, he glanced at them all with a trembling smile. At everyone's encouragement, he filled his plate and stuffed himself.

After breakfast, Harry was surprised again with presents. His eyes bugged at the stack that grew exponentially with each one set on the pile. Each Weasley had given him a present, except for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, they combined theirs. There was one from Hermione, Sirius and one from Remus. Harry was overwhelmed at the generosity they displayed, especially from Bill and Charlie whom he hadn't even officially met yet. Percy he'd seen a few times.

Eyes threatening to tear up again, Harry rubbed them quickly. He'd never had a birthday celebration before. Never had he had people who loved him surround him and celebrate his birth or give him gifts. He'd figured out a long time ago what the yearly celebrations for everyone else had been and he'd known his age due to the fact his 'family' had always pretended to celebrate his birthday only to give him more chores than usual and extra beatings if anything had gone wrong that day. He'd noticed a pattern and had counted each time.

Picking up his first gift, he noticed it was from Sirius. Tearing off the paper, he opened the box to find a photo of his mum, dad, Sirius and Remus framed in an antique black iron frame. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he gently set it aside and reached for the next one. Remus gave him a book on advanced defense. Hermione gave Harry a copy of Hogwarts, A History, causing everyone to roll their eyes and laugh. From Bill, Harry received a silver chain and pendant that had to be two and a half inches long. The pendant was a cartouche shape, an elongated oval with a line along the bottom. Etched onto the pendant were other symbols which Bill explained to everyone out loud and wrote it on parchment for Harry to read.

"The cartouche shape represents the Pharaoh, in your case the one chosen to save us all. It also represents the sun which also stands for the side of the Light."

Harry looked at the first inscribed symbol. It had the outline of a light bulb wearing ear muffs and had two long legs that bent outward.

"That first symbol is called Sa. It's a symbol of protection. The symbol that looks like a shepherd's hook with an upside down horseshoe at the bottom and the drum cymbal at a forty five degree angle at the top is a Was Scepter. It represents power and might. This scepter was often carried around by pharaohs. And power you seem to have a lot of."

The next symbol looked to Harry like a vase with a lid and squarish handles. Bill explained that this was the Egyptian symbol for the heart. Bill continued to explain and write simultaneously.

"The Ancient Egyptians believed that the heart held the mind and soul of an individual. The heart of a deceased individual was often weighed against the Feather of Truth to determine that person's eligibility for eternal afterlife. If the heart was free of sin and corruption, the two symbols would balance and the person would enjoy his afterlife. That brings us to the next symbol that basically looks like a feather. This feather represented Ma'at, the goddess of truth."

The final symbol was that of a bird. Bill explained that Egyptian poetry represented new love as a swallow.

"With everything you've been through and experiencing love for the first time, I thought that symbol would be appropriate in the hopes that you'd come to care for us as much as we care for you."

Deeply touched, Harry slipped the chain around his neck and offered his hand to the older man. The look of astonishment on the man's face told Harry that Bill had been warned off touching Harry. At Harry's nod, Bill gripped Harry's hand firmly, gave it a shake and let go.

**Thank you. It means a lot and I do care for your family very much**, Harry wrote.

Most of the rest of the presents were lighthearted ones. From Charlie, Harry received a collection of dragon scales from each breed of dragon. They had been mounted on a single plaque that stated the name of the dragon, a picture of each and a map of its homeland. From Percy, Harry was given a book on how to choose the appropriate career for oneself. The twins gave him lots of very mild joke products. A box of chocolate frogs came from Ron.

Ginny gave him a Wishing Box. It was a square metal box six inches in height. On the outside, the sides were midnight blue with silver stars in raised relief scattered across them. The hinged lid also was blue with a giant star. Ginny demonstrated how to use the Wishing Box by writing something on a piece of parchment and slipped it into the Box along with a photo of Harry's parents. A second later, a glowing light emanated from the lid's star. Inside the light stood a 3D image of Harry's parents holding a baby Harry. After five seconds, the image faded.

**After you've placed a photo of someone in there, it will forever 'remember' that person's image so the next time, all you have to do is write what you want and what you want that person to do. **

Harry didn't know what to say or do. He stared at the box sitting idly on the table and then turned to Ginny. He swallowed past the lump in his throat but was unable to keep the tears from sliding down his face. Leaning over, Harry hugged her tightly and buried his face against her shoulder. Sure, he'd seen moving photos of his mum and dad with him but it wasn't the same as seeing them in three dimensions knowing he could have them 'interact' with him and now could even see himself with them once he got a photo of himself.

Under control again, he sat up, swiped at his tears, and smiled. **Thank you.**

Harry turned back to the final present. It was small and fit in the palm of his hand. Inside the box was a gold signet ring. The top was flat and round. It had been hollowed out some to create a rim. Inside the circle level with the rim was a griffin in its classical pose of standing on one hind lion-like leg, the other raised mid-step, the two front eagle legs separated, and wings held up as if about to take flight. Its eagle head and lion tail held high proudly. The recessed portion of the ring was Gryffindor red.

**That came from your family vault**, Arthur explained. **It's been passed down from father to son on their fifteenth birthdays for generations. Your father would have given it to you so I thought it fitting you should have it.**

Harry looked at the ring in his hand. It looked rather small. Confused as to what finger to put it on, he looked to the older man for guidance.

**Since you're right-handed, it should go on your left pinky finger.**

Harry slipped it onto his pinky and suddenly felt connected to many generations of Potters. Standing and choking back tears again, he engulfed both elder Weasleys in a hug that could have rivaled one of Molly's.

Standing back, Harry glanced at all those gathered there and gave a short speech, Ginny translating.

**Most of my life, I've known nothing but cruelty. Then you all came into my life and have given me everything I ever dared wish for. The day I was brought to all of you will always be one of the best days of my life, second only to being with Mum and Dad. This day is the third best day. Thank you all for taking me in and treating me with the kindness and respect you show each other. Second to Mum and Dad, I couldn't ask for a better family.**

All three of the females had tears silently rolling down their cheeks by the time he'd finished. All the guys had wet eyes, too, and weren't ashamed to occasionally swipe at them. Molly took a cleansing breath.

**Now for your surprise. We're going to take a little trip. We thought you'd like to take a look at Hogwarts, to get accustomed to it before the new year. **

Harry gathered all his presents and floating the ones he couldn't hold, he took them up to Ginny's room and placed them on his bed. When he got back downstairs, everyone had gathered around the fireplace. Sirius explained that Harry would go with Ginny and then disappeared into the green flames. Arthur went next followed by Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George. Ron went next and then it was Ginny and Harry's turn.

After a brief period of spinning, they came to the correct gate and stepped into Dumbledore's office. They were followed by Molly then Remus. Harry glanced around the office and spied the Headmaster at his desk. Briefly, he tensed before forcing himself to relax. Ginny's hand in his gave a quick reassuring squeeze which further reduced his tension.

Harry watched as Dumbledore lifted his wand and wrote words into the air.

**Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry.**


End file.
